


From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes that I have pass'd

by dragonlandsandyaoihands



Series: Mad Blood Stirring [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mental Health Issues, Nesting, No references to self harm, Omega Keith (Voltron), Omega Lance (Voltron), Top Lance (Voltron), Wicca, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 67,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonlandsandyaoihands/pseuds/dragonlandsandyaoihands
Summary: Transferring to a new university and making friends is never easy, especially not for Keith. He manages to find a group of friends willing to take a chance on him and let him join their group in practicing Wicca and hanging out. It was probably too much to hope for that all of them would instantly become friends, but he really wished Lance didn't have to be both cute and a huge jerk.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as ever to my loving brother for editing this! 
> 
> Fear not, gentle reader for the porn begins in the next chapter. 
> 
> If you're interested in reading more of my writing early access or drabbles that aren't posted on AO3 at all, come check me out at:  
> dragonlandsandyaoihands.tumblr.com for more information in my bio.
> 
> Title is from Othello.

“So…remind me again why we’re allowing a total stranger to come watch us do this?”  
  
Lance gestured around Allura’s opulent apartment. Pidge sighed in exasperation, but didn’t bother to respond. Ever since she’d agreed to Matt’s proposal, (and she had been complaining about finding another coven member, after all), everyone had been super enthusiastic except for Lance. Luckily, Shay humored him.  
  
“He is Shiro’s little brother, remember? Not a total stranger. Allura’s met him before and, even if she had not, as High Priestess, any decision about being watched is hers to make.”  
  
Lance flapped his hand impatiently; they’d been over this before.  
  
“Yeah, okay, it’s not a democracy, but wouldn’t it have been nice for her to at least _ask_ us?”  
  
“What’s wrong Lance? You got performance anxiety?”  
  
Lance opened his mouth to hotly deny any such accusations, but Pidge beat him to it, snorting.  
  
“Lance isn’t an alpha.”  
  
She paused.  
  
“Uh, no offense, Shay. Sorry. Allura always thinks those jokes are pretty funny, but I’m not exactly used to having another alpha around…”  
  
Shay smiled gently.  
  
“No offense received.”  
  
“Oh fine! So you’re worried about offending Shay, but not my fragile feelings?!”  
  
“Ooh, self-burn! That’s a rare one!”  
  
Lance wisely decided to close his mouth before he could embarrass himself further. Shay, the wonderful person she was, decided to save Lance from the high-fiving duo.  
  
“Shiro asked us to make sure Keith would not be without friends. Transferring into a university halfway through freshman year is no easy task, and Shiro said that he has had difficulty meeting new people. Shiro is spending the rest of his summer at pilot training, so since Keith is here and we are all here this seems like an easy way to give him a few people he can rely on.”  
  
Lance fidgeted guiltily, scuffing his shoes against the polished wood floors.  
  
“What if he’s, like, weirded out by this though?”  
  
“Weirded out by what?”  
  
Speak of the devil. Lance turned to face the doorway where Allura closed the door behind the newcomer and herself. He blinked. His voice emerged briefly, strangled and incredulous. Allura cut him off, stepping smoothly in front of Keith to perform introductions.  
  
“You already know Pidge, I assume, but this is Hunk, Shay, and-“  
  
Lance scoffed, interrupting her.  
  
“Tch. We’ve met.”  
  
“Who are you?”  
  
Lance stared at him, indignation growing rapidly.  
  
“Who am I? Uh, the name’s Lance. We were in the same class last semester. Astronomy 101?”  
  
“Really. Are you, uh, a TA?”  
  
“No, I’m a student. We were like rivals, you know, Lance and Keith, neck and neck.”  
  
“Oh, wait, I remember you. You’re second in the class.”  
  
“I was number one, thanks to you washing out.”  
  
“Well, congratulations.”  
  
Keith refocused his attention on Allura, ignoring the seething teen beside him. Lance couldn’t believe this guy! The nerve! Beating him in class, snubbing his previous attempt to befriend him, and then, then! He comes crying to Allura, wanting to join their coven because he couldn’t make friends?  
  
“Didn’t you drop that class because you’d already taken it before? I thought I remembered Matt saying it took awhile for your requirements to transfer over to the Garrison.”  
  
“So basically, you were cheating.”  
  
“What? No! I wasn’t cheating.”  
  
“Yes you were! The reason your grades were so good was because you’d already learned the material! _That’s_ why you were acing the class!”  
  
“Fine! If knowing something ahead of time, independently of the course, counts as cheating to you, then sure! I cheated.”  
  
Lance crossed his arms smugly, satisfaction radiating from his smirk. Allura cleared her throat.  
  
“Now that we’ve established everyone knowing everyone else, I want to give you a little bit more information on what we’re doing here. As Shiro undoubtedly told you, we come together to practice our religion. This isn’t a cult, or anything approaching such, so if you would be willing to keep an open mind, I can explain further. It’s probably best if I explain first and then everyone can add anything I missed before you ask questions. But, as a very loose and broad explanation, think of it as… a very small church.”  
  
She paused. Keith wasn’t sure if he was meant to speak yet. He glanced around, but everyone was focused on Allura. He nodded hesitantly. That seemed to be the signal she was waiting for and she continued patiently.  
  
“We call our path Wicca, and we each identify as a ‘witch’, but do not mistake that term for the more common idea of a witch. We don’t curse people or wear pointed hats. Our group is called a coven and, because of our schedules, we meet informally on Mondays and Wednesdays, at the school, mostly to spend time together and talk, but we come to my flat every Saturday for rituals, followed by dinner. We also meet here for holidays. If this makes you uncomfortable, or doesn’t interest you, please feel free to simply meet us during the week. No one will be offended.”  
  
She cut a sharp look at Lance at her last statement, daring him to contradict her. To her surprise, he was watching Keith and missed her glare entirely. Lance’s face was completely blank, giving nothing of his thoughts away. Keith’s memories of the guy were vague and cobwebbed, but Lance had struck him as a particularly expressive person, so it was disconcerting to see him expressionless. Keith pursed his lips, the silence becoming uncomfortable.  
  
“I, uh, yeah Shiro told me. About the witch-Wicca? thing. I actually did a little research before I came today. I’d never heard of it and was curious. I’m not-I don’t have a religion. I never really thought about it too much, honestly. But, if it’s okay, I’d like to know more? Or to see a, a ritual? That’s what you’re doing today right?”  
  
Allura nodded in confirmation, pleased with Keith’s answer. She smiled genuinely.  
  
“We are indeed. It’s the first of July, so it will be a summer themed ritual. I’m not sure what you’ve learned from your research, but each ritual is performed for a united purpose. If you perform a ritual on your own, you simply focus on the purpose, but since we are a group, we have to agree beforehand on our purpose. Many aspects of Wicca revolve around being in tune with the Earth, as well as farming. Traditionally, the summer was a time of bounty, as uncultivated plants were in bloom. Spring and fall, as planting time and harvest time, are associated with hard work and, while no time of year finds a farmer to be a slacker, summer is a time when they can take things easier. A time to rest and enjoy life around you. Our summer rituals often focus on lessening anxiety, being at peace, or ensuring prosperity.”  
  
Keith listened attentively, sort of wishing he’d brought along a notebook or something. He’d turned off his phone when he arrived at Allura’s, remembering the time he’d gone with a friend to Temple once and not wanting to disrespect his prospective friends. Keith was no fool. Shiro had come to visit and spent his few weeks lamenting Keith’s anti-social nature and making him promise to try spending time with Pidge and her group of friends. Keith had grudgingly made the promise, but had brightened up a little when Shiro warned him about their religion. Shiro had obviously been worried that Keith would think it weird, and he did, but it was unlike any religion he’d ever encountered in real life before. He planned to watch a ritual and then just hang out with them during the week. That way, he could have an idea of what Wicca was, but religion had never appealed to Keith before and he didn’t expect it to now.  
  
“Right, well, I can bring in a chair for you and we can get set up.”  
  
Keith hummed in assent and Allura left to fetch the chair. Once he’d sat down, she joined the others in their preparations. Keith only half paid attention, preoccupied with other thoughts. Though Keith had only spent a little bit of time with Pidge in the past, she seemed like someone he could get along with. He couldn’t tell with the others; Allura clearly was long-winded, but she was a passionate, engaging speaker, so he didn’t mind much. He wasn’t sure about Lance. He regretted not remembering him, but the way Lance acted made Keith think he had more against Keith than a memory lapse. He hoped they could be civil with each other, eventually, and briefly allowed himself to think that he wouldn’t mind being more than civil with someone that attractive.  
  
He was jolted from his thoughts when he noticed that everyone had stopped moving. They were arranged around the large table in the center of the room, equidistant from the center and each other, with the exception of Allura, who stood between Hunk and Lance. Each of them held a green ribbon wrapped around their wrists. They closed their eyes and began to hum a single note softly, changing the pitch until they were in tune. Keith could practically feel it resonate in his bones. He inspected the table/altar more closely, able to see a large stone dusted with a white powder, a fancy goblet, an unlit candle, and a stick of incense, set at a slant in a metal holder. There were also different flowers strewn in clumps, but before he had time to lean closer, Allura began to speak.  
  
“Beautiful and graceful lady of the moon, mistress of the stars at night, lady of magick and mystery. You who are the giver and taker of life, you who have been before time began, I ask you to join us now in this rite, to inspire us, and to guide us on our paths, as I do bid thee hail and welcome. Mighty horned god of the woodlands, bringer of magick and mystery, god of life and light, who guards the wild and free places, I ask you to join us now in this rite. To share your wild wisdom with us, strong and gentle guardian of the animals. Join us now as I do bid thee hail and welcome.”  
  
Hunk stepped forward and took a pinch of the white powder from the rock and sprinkled it on to a plate in the very center of the table and intoned.  
  
“We call upon the dirt below our feet to be firm, but yielding, solid, yet cushion our fall. Guide us and protect us.”  
  
No sooner had he finished and begun to step back to his original place, but Pidge was stepping forward and lighting the incense.  
  
“We call upon the air in our lungs to give fuel our bodies and give sound our voices as we give praise to thee. Guide us and protect us.”  
  
She fumbled getting the incense to sit correctly in the holder, but Shay continued the ritual without hesitation, lighting the candle.  
  
“We call upon the fire lighting our way and warming our skin, the eternal spark of life in our hearts. Guide us and protect us.”  
  
Finally Lance stepped up, dipping two fingers into the cup and then running the fingers around the edge of the glass. Keith shivered at the melodious sound it made.  
  
“We call upon the water in our veins and the veins of the earth, that might sustain us and cleanse us of any impurities. Guide us and protect us.”  
  
They all joined hands and hummed once more, closing their eyes again for awhile. Someone broke the focus when they stamped a foot and Keith jumped a little in his seat. Incredulously, he watched as they all let go and began to stomp or clap their hands, the humming evolving slowly into a song that matched the beat they set with other body parts. Though each person had a slightly different rhythm, together they formed a syncopated song that emphasized and reveled in the dissonance. Keith marveled at the effect. The song became louder and Keith recognized it as something he’d read about: a way of generating energy, or something. He barely noticed that his own foot tapped along and he felt an increasingly desperate need to join in. To feel so…part of something. Connected to other people, but not in a way that erased who _he_ was.  
  
He watched each person come to the table to run their green ribbon through the hazy tendril of incense, dip it into the cup, singe it quickly through the flame, (and blow it out if it caught fire), and sprinkle the white powder on it, (Keith thought it had to either be salt or sugar), before kissing the ribbon and tying it to the others’ ribbons. Once they had one long ribbon, Allura wrapped it gently around a long tree branch that Keith had somehow not noticed laying underneath the table. It had lots of brightly colored ribbons already wrapped around it and the new green one sat proudly at the top.  
  
“May fortune smile down on this date and we see the better side of fate.”  
  
In tandem, all participants sat down on the floor, Allura still holding the ribbon-stick. She laid it across her lap and breathed deeply, her exhale audible. Keith tried not to fidget. He’d also read about the importance of meditation in rituals, so he guessed it was time to clear their minds or, wait, was that a martial arts thing? The pungent smell of jasmine tickled his nose and he tried valiantly to control his sneeze reflex, lest he interrupt anyone.  
  
He failed, flinching.  
  
No one spared him a glance though, powering through for another few minutes before standing again. They repeated the beginning of the ritual, although Lance started and Hunk ended the elements parts and Allura bid the god and goddess farewell. Or, he thought she did, but she said “blessed be”, so it could have meant anything really. But it seemed like an outtro. Especially when they all chanted:  
  
“So mote it be.”  
  
Keith paused, waiting for someone else to make the first move. He was fairly sure the ritual was over, but he only let himself sigh after Lance had started to stretch. Lance reached both arms up, over his head, and leaned heavily to one side, shirt riding up and exposing a sliver of soft-looking caramel skin. Keith had an almost uncontrollable urge to run over and lick it.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
“I am so glad you were impressed. We have all worked very hard to achieve our synchronization.”  
  
Keith jerked his head around to face Shay, who smiled at him innocently. He cleared his throat.  
  
“Ah, yeah. I mean, it-it was really cool.”  
  
After blinking stupidly for a second, Keith regained his footing in the conversation.  
  
“Do you think there is any way I could join? Or do things like that too?”  
  
“Pssh, Shay just said it takes hard work and dedication! It’s not something to just decide on a whim. This isn’t just about cool tools and fancy footwork; it’s a belief system.”  
  
Keith frowned.  
  
“I know that. I wasn’t trying to trivialize it. I just…thought I’d like to be a part of it.”  
  
“Normally, such a request would go through Allura. She is the high priestess of our coven, which basically means she’s in charge.”  
  
Allura smiled gently.  
  
“It doesn’t mean that I’m ‘in charge’ and you know it, Pidge. And besides, something as important as taking on a new initiate would have to be a majority group decision. That’s not something I can do unilaterally.”  
  
She turned to Keith and her tone changed to a serious one.  
  
“Are you sure about this? Obviously, you can change your mind at any time and are always free to leave. But Lance is correct, this isn’t a decision to make lightly.”  
  
Keith had been warned, in his time, about his tendency to be hotheaded and impulsive, but, miraculously, this didn’t feel like an impulsive choice. Watching the group hum together, focus their energies on a singular concept, and, especially, the look of peace each one achieved throughout, felt like coming back to a home Keith had never known was there. He hardly paused before nodding.  
  
“I have done research on this. It isn’t totally out of the blue. Maybe a little…but it calls to me?”  
  
His eyes darted around nervously, immediately regretting his vulnerable words. He braced himself for the teasing from Lance, but it never came. Instead, Lance looked contemplative and somewhat understanding. Allura took Keith at his word.  
  
“Very well then. We shall take it under advisement and discuss it as a coven. I am truly sorry to ask this, but would you mind waiting in the other room? It shouldn’t take but a minute.”  
  
Keith nodded again in agreement, voluntarily carrying his chair out of the room, at Allura’s direction, and replacing it in her living room. He squashed the impulse to pace and sat down stiffly, willing his mind settle down.  
  
“I don’t think this is a good idea. I know he _said_ he did research, but what does that even mean? All of us either grew up practicing family traditions or discovered Wicca on our own pretty young.”  
  
“So what, Lance? You don’t think someone can convert who’s older?”  
  
Lance slapped a hand to his face, pulling the skin down in aggravation.  
  
“Of course not! It just feels really sudden! He meets everyone, watches us do one ritual that wasn’t even a sabbat, and all of a sudden wants to join up? It’s weird!”  
  
“Keep your voice down!”  
  
“I sort of agree with Lance, uh, about the sudden thing. But he seems like a pretty okay guy and super determined. I dunno.”  
  
“That’s valid, Hunk.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“On the other hand, you know, he’s Shiro’s little brother. The one who we promised to help in the first place.”  
  
“There is no reason why we cannot be friends with him, independently of the coven.”  
  
Shay chimed in helpfully. Pidge just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. Why was _she_ stuck being the bad guy just because Lance still had a bee in his bonnet? For that matter, why did Lance hate him so much?  
  
“What’s your problem with him?”  
  
“Me?! He’s the one who didn’t remember me!”  
  
“Besides that.”  
  
“Nothing! That’s my problem!”  
  
Lance pouted and looked away pointedly. No one believed him. They could all sense some deeper, underlying issue; he’d been glaring at Keith long before he had failed to remember Lance’s name. But Lance wasn’t about to get in to how he’d tried, (a few times!), to be Keith’s friend in the class. How he’d been so over-eager and he still cringed at the memory of how he acted. And Keith? Had brushed him off, ignored him, and once had outright snarled at him to ‘stop fucking with me’. The last time made it p r e t t y clear where Keith stood with his opinion of Lance. Sure, maybe Lance’s pickup lines might leave something to be desired, but normally you just laugh it off. Lance would have been perfectly happy just being friends with the guy, but _no._ So, sue him if he’s a little bitter. It hardly mattered anyway. Less than a minute later, he and Hunk (the best, most supportive friend in history, who might have been privy to Lance’s previous outrage about a guy in his class), were outvoted in the matter of Keith vs. The Coven. They were letting Keith join.  
  
When Keith was ushered back into the room, the excited faces of everyone, save Lance, suggested that he’d been accepted. It stung, a little, to see how much Lance didn’t want Keith there, but the expression on Lance’s face was less disdain and more a baffling combination of dread, anger, and something that looked an awful lot like wistfulness. Keith didn’t care to examine his, or Lance’s, feelings too closely at the moment though. Luckily, the rest of the group were busy trying to figure out how Keith could join and their bubbling enthusiasm distracted him.  
  
“Right so…wow, where to begin?”  
  
“The basics, I guess?”  
  
“Okay. Initiation into Wicca, either in a coven or just in general, requires a trial period, if you will, of a year and a day. To test your desire to join and your patience, which is sort of a crucial element in practice.”  
  
“A whole year?”  
  
“And a day! The whole thing is super important! To see if you drop out.”  
  
Lance sneered nastily, the anger having won out among his myriad of emotions.  
  
“Shut up, Lance. Anyways, I figure that we can divide up the year amongst us. We each have different specialties within the magicks we practice, so we can teach you individually. The first month can be the basics and then you study individually with each of us for a couple of months. Then you’d have about another month for exploring your own specialties or whatever you want. The last day is supposed to be a day of contemplation of yourself and what you’ve learned throughout the year so it doesn’t really count.”  
  
Keith’s head was starting to spin as he understood the gravity of the situation. He nodded anyway.  
  
“So, who do I study with first? After I’ve finished the basics.”  
  
“Pretty bold of you to assume you’ll still be with us then and won’t have just up and left.”  
  
Allura turned to fully face Lance, her polite facade cracking for the first time that Keith had seen.  
  
“Lance. No one wants to hear what you have to say. Stop. Talking.”  
  
Keith blinked and raised his eyebrows. Yeah, Lance had been annoying, (although from Lance’s point of view, his only experience with Keith was him dropping out of a class for what seemed like no good reason), but it hadn’t warranted such a vicious response. There hadn’t been a hint of playfulness in Allura’s tone, just exhaustion and an inability to deal with such a nuisance. Keith shifted from one foot to the other, uneasily. It hardly seemed like an interaction friends ought to have. But what did he know? He’d never had a lot of friends, or any, really. He tried to focus back on Pidge who continued to ramble on about the specifics of the schedule and the following brainstorm about the topics he should cover first. He heard that Pidge would be the first one-on-one trainer and he breathed a small sigh of relief. He couldn’t stop sneaking little glances in Lance’s direction, though.  
  
Hunk must have sensed Keith being overwhelmed, or maybe he also felt bad about the way Allura had snapped at Lance, but either way, Keith was grateful when Hunk proposed taking a break for food. If for no other reason than to satisfy his grumbling stomach, and to let Keith turn on his phone so that he could take notes on all of the information pouring from the group like a gushing fountain. (Keith got the feeling that none of them had ever taught anyone before, or, at least, not about this topic). Keith only half heard the attempts at an introduction to Wicca that were thrown his way while the group argued playfully over first a restaurant and then the appetizers. He continued to try and catch Lance’s attention during the otherwise pleasant meal, but was unable to. It left a bad taste in his mouth, despite the food.  
  
The next few meetings were a whirlwind of learning, both by lecture and demonstration, as well as Keith doing his own research and understanding how different paths of Wicca had slightly different teachings. Also about how Tumblr was maybe not the best place for a beginner who couldn’t yet distinguish accurate information from total bogus. The next Saturday, they spent nearly the entire time with Keith walking around Allura’s designated coven-room, pointing at various objects and having someone explain its name, usage, and relevance. They explained patiently about casting a circle, or designating a sacred space in order to protect the person inside from other forces, to offer a place without distraction, and to give the mind another way to focus by separating the user from the outside world. Keith found out that many Wiccans had a specific god or goddess that they dedicated themselves to, from ancient pantheons around the world. Shay hurried to add that the practice of dedication wasn’t mandatory, and that she, herself, was not dedicated to any particular deity, but that Wicca was a religion of balance so both a deity of choice as well as their opposite must be worshipped somewhat equally. Keith could appreciate that kind of balance, even if he secretly envied those capable of such equilibrium.  
  
Even as Keith contemplated the necessity of balance in one’s life, he felt a building frustration too. He and everyone in the coven were still getting to know each other, but he felt confident that they’d all eventually work cohesively as a group. Except for Lance. Keith had been trying to subtly make amends; offering Lance the first cookie of the batch Hunk brought in, filling up the chalice with water before a ritual so that Lance didn’t have to, and simply holding the door open when Lance dawdled. To his rising ire, Lance either was oblivious to Keith’s friendly overtures or ignored them. Everyone had just finished discussing the various elements called upon in rituals when the tension between Keith and Lance finally came to a head. While Pidge took a phone call outside of the room and Shay used the bathroom, since it was a Wednesday and they were the only other people besides Keith and Lance who were able to attend. Technically, Allura was also present, but she had a headache and secluded herself in her room. Keith headed to the kitchen to grab a Capri-Sun for himself. After a second of hesitation, he grabbed a second one for Lance. He thrust the pouch at Lance and received a look that made Keith positive that he’d regret the gesture. He wasn’t wrong.  
  
“What’s this?”  
  
“Uh, Capri-Sun?”  
  
At Lance’s withering look, Keith rushed to check the flavor.  
  
“The red one, you know, Fruit Punch.”  
  
Lance clenched his teeth and exhaled slowly, enunciating each word in a clear, low tone.  
  
“I don’t know who you’re trying to impress, or-or convince, but just stop. We’re _not friends,_ okay? You made that super clear before. We may eventually be part of a coven together, assuming you don’t decide you’re bored and leave, but that doesn’t automatically make us friends. So don’t feel like you need to pretend for my sake, because you don’t.”  
  
Keith reeled back, clutching the juice packs so hard that one burst in a shower of red. He blinked stupidly. Lance continued to glower, face flushed in something akin to humiliation. Without a word, he stomped out of the room. Keith tried to catch his breath, wondering when he’d stopped breathing and if it was why he was so light-headed. To his surprise, Lance returned after a few seconds with a roll of paper towels and knelt at Keith’s feet, mopping up the spill. Shay returned from the bathroom and Keith stammered something about his Capri-Sun popping. Shay nodded and thankfully didn’t notice (or didn’t mention) the second juice pouch in Keith’s hands, his shell-shocked expression, or Lance radiating fury. Keith awkwardly made his excuses and left Allura’s place, brushing past Pidge and holing up in an area near his dorm for privacy. He couldn’t help but obsess over Lance’s cruel words, delivered so powerfully and full of both anger and hurt.  
  
Why the _fuck_ was he hurt? Righteous indignation thrummed through Keith’s veins. Hadn’t Keith been nice to make up for the slight of forgetting Lance’s name?! It wasn’t even that big of a deal! So he’d forgotten his name! So what?! Why did Lance care so much, anyway? And why hadn’t anything Keith had done, those nice gestures, made a difference? Was the perceived slight so awful that the olive branches he’d offered meant nothing? Lance didn’t have the right to be hurt when he was the one shutting down Keith’s attempts at friendship! Didn’t have the right to be so rude to Keith when he was just trying to show some solidarity with the first other omega Keith had ever had the chance to be on good terms with, to be friends with. Keith stiffened at the sudden thought. Was his status as an omega the problem? Most of his experience with popular media suggested that omegas often bonded and supported each other in a world dominated by alphas and their whims, but some movies showed omegas as jealous of each other, fighting and competing for an alpha’s attention. A vague unease fell over Keith. Lance didn’t smell mated, so alpha praise could be a motivation.  
  
He took some time to calm down, figuring that he might have more success in figuring out the problem after. The tips he’d received about focus and meditation were surprisingly helpful in bringing the bundle of hurt and confusion to a more manageable level. He tried to approach the problem the way Pidge outlined a calculation. People always meant more than just their words. In this case, what did Lance mean? The initial memory of Lance’s declaration made Keith jerk and his own temper flare, but if he could analyze the words without reliving the moment, he might realize something important. He paced for at least five minutes before he tried again. Lance had said something about Keith trying to impress someone. Shit. Keith’s stomach sank. That was the first thing Lance had said; it was probably the main point. Everything else could have been noise. Lance thought that Keith was trying to usurp his position as group omega, or trying to bring attention to himself. Pidge and Hunk were both betas, but Allura and Shay were alphas. Hunk and Shay seemed to orbit each other in an odd almost-courtship dance, and Lance often encouraged Hunk to make a move, so Keith didn’t think Shay was the alpha Lance wanted attention from. Allura then. It made sense, sort of. Allura was both the high priestess of the coven and an alpha, in addition to her good looks and charm. He could understand Lance’s desire to win her over, in both capacities of an authority figure, no matter how much the idea of omegas sucking up to alphas left Keith full of sour rancor.  
  
The best option was clearly an apology, but Keith still felt too hurt to consider it. Instead, he settled on a clear and direct conversation. To set the boundaries. He didn’t have to like it, but he and Lance _needed_ to be civil. Based on previous explanations of the importance of balance, Keith figured that a high priestess would seek a high priest, most likely of the opposite side of the secondary gender spectrum. Keith would explain that he had no intention of pursuing Allura or becoming her high priest and Lance would have to recognize their need for civility. Keith exhaled heavily. Shiro would be proud; he’d (somewhat) calmly assessed a situation, reasoned his way through it, and reached a reasonable compromise. He hadn’t even needed to ask for help.  
  
During the entirety of their Saturday meeting and ritual, Keith found it harder than normal to concentrate. Hunk was excited about a coming holiday, called it Loo-nah-sah. Or something like that. He’d explained that it was a harvest celebration so Keith figured it would be the pagan version of Thanksgiving. He waited until he could corner Lance, alone in the kitchen, under the pretense of getting some water. A nervous energy roiled through his stomach, but he dismissed it.  
  
“Hey, Lance.”  
  
Lance seemed utterly unsurprised that Keith addressed him and watched, with a resigned expression that Keith felt was unwarranted. It made him stumble a little over his practiced words.  
  
“I um, I think there’s been some misunderstandings between us. About m-my intentions.”  
  
Lance sipped his drink and didn’t interrupt.  
  
“I know we’re both omegas, but we don’t have to compete. I cede to you. Uh, I mean, I’m not trying to take Allura away or anything like that, I never had any intention of-“  
  
Lance did cut him off then. Keith was fervently grateful; his awkwardness and stuttering would have lead to incomprehensible speech soon.  
  
“You think this is about Allura? Or us being omegas?”  
  
Keith blinked rapidly, backpedaling through his speech.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Lance’s expression closed off, his eyes flinty.  
  
“It’s not. Not for me at least. I guess you neither. You think I’m so insecure that the presence of a new omega in my group would make me lash out?”  
  
Keith opened his mouth to answer no, or yes really, but Lance obviously meant it rhetorically.  
  
“Cool. I guess you forgot that too. I guess, just like my name… Everything about me is just totally forgettable. I can’t believe for a second there I _actually_ thought you were gonna apologize. Damn.”  
  
The last part Lance mumbled, turning away and stalking out of the kitchen and leaving Keith more confused and hopeless than before. Keith wracked his brain, desperately trying to remember whatever was so important about Lance and him that he’d forgotten, frustration with the whole situation mounting. It would be so easy to just dismiss the whole thing; shrug it off and let Lance dislike him. Both of them were adults and Lance wasn’t actually trying to get Keith kicked out of the group or sabotage him in any way, not that Keith had noticed in the past few weeks. Lance just…coexisted. For all he knew, Lance was constantly shit talking him with everyone else, but Keith didn’t get that vibe. It was painful though, being part of such a close-knit group without the ability to befriend one. He couldn’t give up though, not when it seemed like he was in the wrong somehow. But he’d exhausted his memory and ability to solve the problem himself. What would Shiro do? The answer was blindingly apparent. He resolved to ask for help from someone who knew Lance better.  
  
He agonized over the right person, had considered Hunk to be Lance’s best friend. The problem with Hunk was that he could be _too_ close. More likely to know what event occurred that Keith had forgotten, but also more likely to be on Lance’s side. Maybe the fact that Keith had done the thing and then forgotten would be enough of a slight to Lance that Hunk would join him in his anger and unite against Keith. He couldn’t risk that. Keith needed to find a more impartial judge. Pidge was so uninterested in social problems that she couldn’t be trusted to know the problem, (and Keith was wary of involving her considering her tendency to mock or ignore Lance so often), and Shay didn’t seem very close with Lance. Which left Allura. She had an invested interest in promoting everyone’s friendship, so maybe she’d be ideal. He realized his mistake almost immediately.  
  
“You think I ought to pay more attention to Lance?”  
  
Sure, there was a deeper issue, but more praise from the object of your affections couldn’t hurt, right?  
  
“Yeah. I think he’s been feeling overlooked lately and it’s been affecting his mood.”  
  
Allura arched a delicate eyebrow.  
  
“His mood…? Oh! Has he been overly rude to you? Taking out his bad mood on you?”  
  
“Not exactly. There’s something I forgot that was important to him. I think that’s the real issue, but he won’t tell me what’s wrong-“  
  
“I _told him_ that he needed to show some maturity for once in his life and _let it go!_ ”  
  
“Do you know what it is?”  
  
Allura shook her head.  
  
“Of course not, but surely it wasn’t that big of a deal if you don’t even remember the event? Lance is a good person, but he’s always so overdramatic and it’s quite frustrating for the people around him. He expects us to know every single thing about him and to comfort him every time a girl so much as doesn’t return his flirting! It is so much work and really, quite self-centered. He ought to consider someone else for a change.”  
  
Allura clearly had a few unresolved issues with Lance herself and Keith felt sick, thinking about how he’d brought all of it up.  
  
“Look, don’t worry about it okay? I’ll deal with it.”  
  
“No! That’s not your burden to bear. Lance needs to know that his actions and words have impact and that it’s not okay. Perhaps this kind of talking to is long overdue, but I’ll make sure he understands and corrects the behavior.”  
  
“Allura, really, please don’t-“  
  
“Nonsense! I’ll take care of it.”  
  
Keith panicked, tried to convince her to just drop it. Considering how much she criticized Lance for overreacting, she was not doing a good job of demonstrating a more level-headed approach. By the time he’d finished, he’d made Allura promise not to reprimand Lance, only to try and find out what Keith had forgotten and to persuade Lance to give Keith a chance to make it up to him, but Allura had quickly become so consumed with other times Lance had acted out that he wasn’t sure she was listening. He tried to figure out whether it would be better or worse to warn Lance in advance. What could he even say? Lance, sorry, but when I asked Allura why you hate me she started thinking about other shit and is coming to yell at you? Yeah, right. Maybe it would be better to not mention it and hope Allura managed to be a bit more diplomatic when she spoke to Lance.  
  
Come Monday, when a surprisingly strong hand closed around his bicep and yanked Keith viciously away from Allura’s front door, Keith regretted his decision of inaction. He forced himself not to flinch away from Lance’s glare, the glint in his eyes truly vicious. Keith’s stomach plummeted as he realized that he was experiencing Lance’s true anger for the first time. Lance spat out his words.  
  
“You went to Allura?! You went behind my back, to _my_ friend? To complain about me?!”  
  
“No! That’s not-!”  
  
“So that whole thing over the weekend, when you wanted to try and move past our differences, that was all a lie? To get me to not pay attention while you snuck around like a coward?! How many of them have you talked to? Should I be expecting Hunk to corner me next? Or Pidge?!”  
  
A storm brewed in Lance’s eyes and, though Keith was heavy with guilt, his own confusion and frustration rose in response to Lance’s fury.  
  
“I said no! If you would just let me explain!”  
  
“Like you did _such_ a good job of explaining last time?”  
  
“Just stop! All I did was ask if Allura knew why you have such a problem with me! Okay? I said we were fighting and I just wanted to fucking know why! You wouldn’t tell me! I’m sorry I forgot, but I just want to know why you hate me!”  
  
“If that’s what you said then why did Allura come lecture me on behaving myself and being inclusive? She didn’t say anything about that, just that you had let her know that I was mistreating you and she wanted me to shape up!”  
  
Keith massaged his temples in exasperation.  
  
“I tried to calm her down, I just wanted to know why. She didn’t know. But then she started going off about it, had all of her own opinions…I didn’t ask her to do that!”  
  
“Oh, so your excuse is that you weren’t fucking with me, but my friends secretly harbor all those bad feelings about me and took the first reason to bring them up?”  
  
It sounded terrible when Lance put it like that, but Keith couldn’t help but feel that Lance’s explanation accurately described it. He must have hesitated too long though, because Lance’s face twisted in sadness and he went on, voice lowering and vicious.  
  
“You really wanna know? Fine. I tried to make friends with you in class. I tried approaching you, you dismissed me, whatever. Maybe you had a bad day. But the second time and the third time? I may be stupid, but I can take a hint. You didn’t want to be friends, cool, sure. Your loss. But then, Shiro goes to us, begs us to help his poor baby brother who no one wants to be friends with. Boo fucking hoo. So you come crawling to _my coven_ and joining our friend group isn’t enough, no, Keith wants it all. You want to join us, come into my sacred space and, just, insert yourself. And everyone loves you! Oh Keith is so cool, Keith is such a fast learner, Keith is so pale and interesting! Just like in class! I can’t escape, ugh!”  
  
Lance started tugging at his own hair unconsciously the longer he hissed at Keith. Keith’s own anger melted in the face of Lance’s hurt and turned to bafflement. He’d clearly been oblivious if he’d missed three separate attempts to be his friend. How could he have not noticed? Part of Keith couldn’t help but be relieved that an alpha truly wasn’t what kept him and Lance at odds, but most of him was horrified that he’d caused someone else such pain, no matter how unintentional.  
  
“Lance. I’m so sorry. I never meant to do…any of that. I was going through some problems in that class, but I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. And I’m not here to r-replace you, or anything. In the coven or amongst your friends. I don’t know what’s up with Allura, but they are your friends first. If it’s-I mean. I don’t have to join the coven. I could just learn stuff and practice on my own, or something. I don’t want you to have to include me-“  
  
“Shut up. Just do what you’re gonna do. If you try and opt out now, everyone will blame me. It’s whatever.”  
  
Lance suddenly looked so tired, all the fight gone from him. He shrugged once and turned on his heel, walking away from Allura’s. Keith boggled at his retreating back, replaying the conversation and trying to find a better answer. Finally, Pidge stuck her head outside and found Keith, pacing on the sidewalk. She convinced him to come inside, although he didn’t make the mistake of bringing up his and Lance’s troubles with anyone else. He kept expecting Lance to come in later, after he’d had some time to walk around. It was harder to pay attention at first, but Keith ruthlessly suppressed the ache of guilt and confusion and lost himself in learning about invocations and the three aspects of the goddess. He even managed to take notes on the maiden, mother, and crone forms and how they corresponded with the changing seasons. It didn’t stop him from noticing that Lance never came back. Or that he missed Wednesday as well.  
  
When Lance didn’t come on Saturday, the others finally said something. They’d spent Wednesday discussing the wheel of the year and the various holidays, or sabbats, that they celebrated. Saturday was August 1st, the Lughnassadh holiday Hunk had been excited about. Since the weather was nice, they all met up at a park and set up a temporary altar, far away from curious stares. While everyone helped with laying out blankets and food for their picnic, Hunk gave voice to Lance’s absence.  
  
“I guess Lance just isn’t feeling well? He usually enjoys the fall festivals so he must feel pretty shitty…”  
  
Hunk at least seemed dismayed by Lance’s absence, although the presence of Pidge and Shay distracted him quickly. Allura announced that, in the ritual, she’d be subbing in for Lance in the west. Keith’s jaw clenched as he saw how quickly the group replaced Lance’s position and just continued on. He guessed that they couldn’t exactly postpone a holiday, but couldn’t they have waited to celebrate until Lance had returned? And why had he stayed away? Wasn’t he going to be back soon? Maybe he really was sick. He dragged his wandering mind back to the group at hand, determined to make the most of his first sabbat.  
  
“This is a holiday about gratitude, reflection, and reconnection. It is the first of three harvest festivals, when we see the first fruits of our labor coming to fruition. Try to keep these things in mind. We’ll have our group ritual, but this time, we’ll let Keith sit inside of the circle. When we sit for our normal meditations, feel free to try some small magick of your own.”  
  
Allura smiled at him kindly. Shay had suggested a spell he might try on Wednesday, something simple where he let go of his negative energy and opened himself to positive connections. More than any of the others, Keith suspected that Shay knew what was going on with him and Lance, which surprised him. But he was happy to have someone’s sympathy, without all of Allura’s or Pidge’s own animosity towards Lance. How much could a single spell could manage to help his deteriorated relationship with Lance? He didn’t know. But it could only help. He clutched a small, orange candle to his chest, nodding solemnly.  
  
He assisted in the preparations for their ritual. First, everyone spread out to find some vegetation to tie together in a plant effigy. Pidge had brought an abundance of corn husks, which turned out to be necessary since most of them didn’t find much beyond twigs. They managed to make a crude approximation of a person with stringy hair. Pidge crushed some blueberries in a fancy black mortar and smeared the paste on in a smiley face. At Keith’s expression, Pidge snorted and flicked some blueberry juice at him. He gasped in mock outrage. Allura presented the effigy with a small tomato, the first fruit from her tiny indoor garden. She’d brought a few others mixed in with a salad for them to eat afterwards. Once the effigy and tomato were balanced and stopped slumping over, the rest of the group proceeded to cast the circle. It was a little different, being inside the circle. Keith sat, slightly uncomfortable, not in the center of the circle but near enough to see the individual silk strands curling out of the effigy.  
  
The method was similar to how they usually cast, but Hunk began by also holding a dried sprig of something, maybe wheat, in his hand. He passed it to Pidge when he finished his part. Once the circle was complete, they deviated from normal and all stepped forward to place a hand on the effigy. Keith leaned back, allowing them to reach by.  
  
“Spirit of the harvest, spirit of the land. Come into your body, come in through our hands!”  
  
After repeating the chant for a minute, everyone stepped back except for Allura, who placed her other hand over the effigy’s chest. Hunk started the march, everyone walking the circle clockwise. Allura spoke suddenly.  
  
“The spirit resides within this, and within this, the spirit is sewn!”  
  
Everyone took turns slipping a piece of paper under the effigy and thanking it for the good things in their lives. They sat down to meditate and Keith set down his candle carefully. Allura pushed a lighter towards where he sat without opening her eyes. Keith was mildly impressed. He settled into a more relaxed position and cradled the candle in his palms. He tried to visualize the anger and frustration he’d been feeling because of his disconnect with Lance flowing from his chest in red lines, culminating in the candle he held. It was difficult to keep the picture in his head and not allow his mind to wander. He let all of the pain and agitation wash over him, doing his best to not suppress anything. It _hurt._ After some time, Keith’s jaw relaxed and he exhaled heavily, opening his eyes. He set the candle down and lit it, seeing the negative feelings being burned away. The spell was supposed to open him to positive connections, with the world around him, the friends around him… Instead, Keith just felt drained.  
  
He watched, somewhat detachedly, as everyone else stretched their legs and thanked the spirits, releasing the circle. The next thing he knew, he was sitting with them all, including the corn effigy, and tentatively munching on the delicious potluck. He especially enjoyed the apple tarts, but choked on one when Hunk mentioned that they were one of Lance’s favorites. The tarts sat heavy in Keith’s stomach. He set a few aside and made Hunk promise to give them to Lance when he went back to his dorm. Hunk smiled and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Of course, man! He’d totally kill me if I didn’t, sick or not.”  
  
Once everyone had finished eating, they took turns playing with a frisbee Shay had brought. She told Keith, as an aside, that since she was no good at cooking, she was in charge of the entertainment. Keith pushed down the lingering guilt over Lance’s absence to join in the fun. He couldn’t spend all of his time worrying over him, after all. He wanted to befriend _all_ of them, so that meant he would take every opportunity to have fun and grow closer with them. By the end of the evening, his cheeks hurt from how hard he’d smiled. Maybe the candle spell had helped. He went to sleep that night feeling more at peace than he had in a long, long time.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with porn!

The next week, Keith began his individual training with Pidge. During the one-on-one training, he would meet on during the week with just Pidge and they would go over her specialties and any questions Keith had. Then, they’d join the entire group for the Saturday ritual. Pidge let him know that, once the school year started in September, she’d have to switch to Tuesdays and Thursdays to accommodate her schedule. She’d shown him her course list and he’d almost had a panic attack just contemplating it. At his saucer eyes, she’d put it away and brought out a schedule he’d be more interested in. She showed him the tentative schedule for his Wicca studies.  
  
( “For passing me around the group?”  
  
“Damn, Keith. You’ve got a dirty mind. I like you, but I don’t know if-“  
  
Keith groaned and rolled his eyes while Pidge had a chuckle.)  
  
He would study with Pidge until the end of September, at which point he’d move on to Hunk through the end of November, Shay until February, Allura until April, Lance until early June, and then have his solitary month. If everything went according to plan. Keith suspected that they’d put him with Lance last, likely in the hopes that in eight months they’d be able to, at least, come to a truce. Keith fervently hoped that it didn’t take nearly as long.   
  
Monday after Lughnassadh, Pidge gave him directions to her house. Keith wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting; he’d known that Pidge still lived at home with her family from Matt, but he’d never actually visited their house. It was a modest size, on an average cul-de-sac that backed up against a grove of trees. He felt out of place and tugged his cropped jacket straighter before knocking hesitantly. The door swung open immediately and a woman he didn’t know greeted him.  
  
“You must be Keith. I’m Colleen Holt. Please come in, Katie is waiting for you.”  
  
Keith awkwardly bobbed his head and stepped inside, self-conscious of his dirty boots. He’d had a brief moment of wondering who Katie was, before remembering that it was Pidge’s real name. Matt, or maybe Shiro, had mentioned that before. Colleen led him to a sliding glass door, opening it to reveal their backyard. Keith smiled at the visual of Pidge puttering around a very small greenhouse. Across the yard, a large dog slept soundly on his back, his legs kicking the air intermittently. Keith’s heart warmed, even as jealousy sparked through him, at such a domestic scene.   
  
“Hey! Keith!”  
  
He turned to smile at Pidge who excitedly waved him over. He politely thanked Colleen for her hospitality before making his way over to Pidge. She waved proudly at the assortment of green things growing inside the glass enclosure, rattling off a dizzying list of plants Keith wasn’t familiar with and the ones currently in season. When she noticed that Keith wasn’t keeping up with her, she sighed and adjusted her glasses.   
  
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Well, as you probably guessed, herbalism is my main specialty. I’m also decent at tarot reading and cleansing, all of which you’ll be learning in the coming weeks. Before we get to all of that, though, Allura made it a point that we should all show you our personal altars and what we put on it so that you can start thinking of what you’d like to eventually put on yours.”  
  
Keith hummed thoughtfully.  
  
“Do I have to wait until I’m initiated to have one?”  
  
“No way! You could build one today and it would be fine. It can be huge or tiny, no size restrictions at all. The main thing is that it has to be in an area or space that you don’t use for other purposes. Part of how you teach your mind to clear for meditation or rituals is by designating a space for just magick. So it can’t be under your bed or in your closet or something.”  
  
Keith nodded, furrowing his eyebrows. Living in a dorm meant that there wasn’t a whole lot of space for…anything. Not that he had a lot of possessions to begin with, but, starting in the fall, there was a chance he’d get a roommate and then he’d have even less space. Shit, that was something he hadn’t thought too much about yet.   
  
“But you also don’t _have_ to have one right away either. So think about it. But, in the mean time, let’s go see mine.”  
  
Pidge led him over to the fence that bounded her backyard and rapped on a few boards. One of them swung a bit and she smiled, lifting it off to the side. Keith raised an eyebrow at her as she turned to the side and shimmied through the small opening. Keith wasn’t positive that he would also fit, but he managed to squeeze through by sucking in his stomach and wiggling. He glared at Pidge when he’d stumbled through. She raised her hands in a placating gesture and didn’t say anything, although her glasses glinted unsettlingly. From there, it was a short walk to one very large tree stump, overshadowed by the fruit trees around it and protecting the stump from the sun. They wouldn’t do much for rain, but luckily, it didn’t rain much there.   
  
“First of all, remember when we talked about dedicating yourself to a deity?”  
  
Keith nodded, sitting down on the rough dirt and trying to get comfortable. He went into the notes app on his phone, preparing for a long discussion.  
  
“Right. I’m dedicated to an Etruscan deity called Fufluns. Who represents plants, happiness, health, growth, and wine. Some of these aspects are represented on my altar. Often, if someone is dedicated, they will have a few tributes, symbolic or not, on their altar for the deity of choice, in addition to more basic tools and tributes to the four elements or cardinal directions. Keep in mind, though, that the purpose of an altar is a place to perform magick and to have tools at easy access. For a long time, my greenhouse was my altar. No one else goes in there and mostly my magick is plant based.”  
  
She paused to allow Keith time to catch up in his frantic note-taking. She began to lift each item individually off of the altar as she explained it.  
  
“On my altar itself, I have a wand, to represent air, a boline, which is sort of a tiny scythe with a white handle, to represent fire, a mortar and pestle, whatever seasonal flowers I can find or grow, a cup of wine for Fufluns and also to represent water. Remember, the same object can serve different symbolic purposes. And some assorted herbs and essential oils.”  
  
“What represents earth?”  
  
“The tree stump, duh.”  
  
“Oh, yeah. Right.”  
  
For their first meeting, Pidge explained cleansing and how burning certain incenses or herbs could clear out an area of negative energy, as well as how certain scents stimulated the mind and could help encourage positive energy by way of pleasant memories or an increased ability to focus. Pidge warned him that tarot card reading could be difficult because the reader needed to know all of the different meanings and implications for each card and how they related to each other. He promised to spend some extra time reading over the meanings and she sent him some reliable sites to check out. Out of curiosity, she held the deck and allowed him to draw a single card. He grimaced at the card’s name: The Fool.  
  
“Guess this doesn’t bode well for me, huh?”  
  
Pidge grinned and shook her head.  
  
“On the contrary, this is the card of infinite potential. New beginnings and all that. It shows that you are a risk taker and are embarking on a new journey, even not knowing what lies ahead. Basically: you’re feelin’ lucky, punk.”  
  
Keith returned her smile and committed The Fool to memory, brushing his thumb over the card a few times, before letting Pidge shuffle it back into the deck. Even if his optimism was short-lived and unfounded, he couldn’t help but think that this coven was a good thing to have taken a chance on. And, no matter their current relationship, he was determined to take a chance on Lance as well. He _would_ become friends with all of them.   
  
He managed to hold onto that determination on Saturday when they all met up. His heart leapt momentarily when he saw that Lance had returned, though it quickly sank as it became apparent that Lance was ignoring Keith completely. Keith tried to say that he was happy that Lance was feeling better, but Lance’s response was to blankly stare at him and politely thank him, the way you might speak to a total stranger. Besides that remark, whenever Keith tried to say anything, Lance would pretend to startle and obnoxiously look around. He’d make comments like:  
  
“Oh, sorry, guess I _forgot_ you were there.”  
  
Keith grit his teeth and bore the treatment, but it was hard to remember that he was the one in the wrong when Lance was being even louder and dumber than usual. Even Hunk seemed put off by his behavior. Keith just had to hope that eventually Lance would tire of the antics and, given time, would allow Keith to try again at their friendship. After the amount of hurt Lance had shown, Keith supposed that he deserved the opportunity to get it out of his system for a little while. He sighed noisily.  
  
After enduring yet another Saturday meeting of Lance ignoring him, Keith began to dread the weekend get-togethers. He wished that Lance could hurry up and let Keith apologize properly, or forget about it so that they could start getting along. But, guilt frequently accompanied those wishes; the least Keith could do was let Lance air his anger in peace. The following Tuesday, Keith woke up sweaty and knew his heat would start the following day. Classes hadn’t started yet, so he took the time to build a crude nest from his bedding and rub his scent all over it in preparation. He took a shower before heading over to Pidge’s, not wanting to look like a total layabout. To his surprise, no sooner had she opened the door for him, than she was shaking her head and pushing him back towards his bike.  
  
“No way. You reek, man.”  
  
“I literally _just_ took a shower!”  
  
Keith exclaimed indignantly, surreptitiously sniffing an armpit.  
  
“Doesn’t matter. Everyone thinks betas can’t smell anything since we don’t have ruts or heats, but trust me; we can smell it. It just grosses us out. I don’t want that stink in my house and neither does my family, even though they’re way too polite to say anything. So just go back to your dorm and keep reading up on tarot cards. Text me if you have any questions, but I’m confident that there is enough material to keep you busy for a few days. Hopefully, you’ll be fine by Saturday since it’s only Tuesday, but seriously. Go take care of that stank.”  
  
Keith huffed and mounted his bike, fixing Pidge with an acidic glare and hissing at her:  
  
“I do not stink!”  
  
Keith drove back to his dorm impatiently, thinking of sick burns he could have thrown back at Pidge, if only he’d thought of them earlier. By the time he finally burst into his room and closed the door behind him, his fury was nearly incandescent. He paced around the small dorm, determined to get back at her in some way. She’d known he was an omega! It wasn’t a goddamn surprise! And what an old-fashioned attitude, thinking that omegas couldn’t do anything during their heats! A small voice in his head reminded him that Pidge had said nothing of the sort; just that his smell annoyed her. Keith growled. His scent was something he took pride in! He’d been told that it was very sweet and smoky, like marshmallows over a crackling campfire. Well, fine. If Pidge thought that his scent was bad now, then it would be a whole lot worse when he got aroused. Before he knew it, he’d vindictively hauled out his small shoebox of heat supplies, stripped off all his clothes, and angrily climbed into his nest. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten off in a huff and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. But, he didn’t want to be thinking about Pidge.   
  
He rubbed a few fingers up and down the length of his cock, watching it twitch and start to fill slowly under his touch. His mind wandered a little bit. He didn’t usually think about any person in particular; just focused on the sensations running through his nerves and on chasing pleasure. Unbidden, he imagined that the hand on his dick wasn’t his own, but another’s. The idea made him hum and jerk his hips up a little. He let his eyes fall to half mast, his breaths deepening. He used his other hand to press his thighs further open, drifting a single finger down to his fluttering hole. He wasn’t really wet yet, couldn’t honestly get very wet unless he was either in heat properly or very turned on, so he settled for wrapping his fist around his prick and giving himself some long strokes. He bucked up into his own fist with a gasp, his usual impatience getting the best of him once again. Keith didn’t get off very often, didn’t even get horny that often, so it isn’t long before his cock was hard and leaking slightly in his tight grip. He took the opportunity to fumble open the shoebox and massage a little bit of lubricant over his hole.   
  
Once his heat started in earnest, Keith could technically go without the lube, and he wasn’t positive that he would end up using the long, sleek dildo peeking out from the box either, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Judging by the pent up frustration in his chest, both from Pidge’s dismissal and Lance’s new technique of blatantly ignoring Keith’s existence, Keith figured that he deserved a good, hard fuck. And he sure as hell knew how to give himself one. But first, he’d try his trusted, normal routine.   
  
He added some lube to both hands, allowing one to cup his balls and roll them gently between his fingers, moaning softly and letting his knees fall to the sides. He pretended that someone else, some faceless, kind person was there, warming Keith up. The hand slipped further down, teasing over his fluttering hole and Keith’s lips parted, panting lightly. The other hand resumed its grip on his cock, not stroking yet; merely rubbing around the sensitive skin just under the head and smearing the precum over his slit. Keith struggled to keep his hips on the bed. The imaginary person leered down at him, sliding a single finger inside smoothly. Keith exhaled loudly and turned his face to smush it into his pillow, nuzzling the soft fabric. That was _nice_. The shadow person finally began to pay more attention to Keith’s reddened prick, strokes that quickly devolved into holding his fist still while Keith arched up, meeting each downstroke. Keith’s ears filled with the sounds of blood rushing through his veins and the echoing slap of skin, hardly noticing when his finger slipped out of him so that he could twist his fingers in the bedsheets beneath his writhing form.   
  
“Ah! Ah!”  
  
Unable to hold off any longer, Keith came with a noisy sigh, coating his stomach with sticky fluid. He waited for the usual satisfaction to accompany the action, but it never came. The racing pulse and itchy feeling beneath his skin still taunted him, egged him on for release. His cock had hardly softened from cumming when Keith rolled over, landing with a “Mumph!” on his front. Distantly, he thought that it was kind of gross, but he definitely _did not_ have the wherewithal to do anything about it. As it was, he barely remembered to get a finger inside himself again, prying his cheeks apart with the opposite hand. He thrust the finger in and out, harder and harder, unable to find a good spot without longer fingers or better reach. Frustrated, he yanked his hand away and groped for the dildo, knocking over the shoebox in his haste. He lubed it up sloppily, rubbing it around his rim to remind himself of its girth. He knew he ought to stretch himself more; there was no way this was going to feel good at first. He also knew that he’d run out of patience. He slowly forced the dildo inside, gasping and mewling into the pillow, already wet with sweat and saliva. He prayed that he was close enough to starting his heat that his muscles would be more relaxed and he wouldn’t actually hurt himself.  
  
He braced an arm under himself, scooting his ass in the air like he was presenting for a mate. It was a better angle for the dildo to slide in, but even with the textured handle, it was hard to grip and thrust into himself with any kind of consistent rhythm. He took it slow for as long as possible, letting his muscles unclench and wiggling his hips, waiting to adjust. When he could breathe steadily, Keith tried to fuck himself harder with it, back muscles rippling with effort. He ground his teeth together, trying different speeds and angles. He just couldn’t-shit-couldn’t find the right-ah-ah-spot where the _fuck_ was it?! Shoving the toy deep inside himself, he clamped down around it and brought both arms to his front, levering his body up. He reached back to position the dildo so that he grasped the base with his calves and steadied himself with a hand on the wall. He rolled his hips experimentally.   
  
Yeah. Better.  
  
His eagerness finally released, he worked up to a fast pace, ass bouncing and slapping audibly against his legs tucked up beneath him. That was what he needed. He let his imagination run wild, no longer occupied with concentrating on the logistics. The stranger under him, running appreciative hands up his thighs, hissing in pleasure, eyelashes fluttering, goosebumps around his warm, brown nipples, still wet from Keith’s mouth…That wide slash of a grin softened into something akin to rapture. With a start, Keith realized that the stranger he pictured had metamorphosed into Lance at some point. No real surprise there. He _knew_ he was attracted to Lance; it wasn’t a big deal. Imaginary Lance chuckled low beneath him and Keith smirked, bouncing a little faster. It was just a fantasy, no harm done. Staring into those intense eyes, Keith saw a challenge directed at him and he ground down with purpose, wondering if Lance was the type to grit his teeth when it got so good his eyes rolled back in his head, or if his mouth would drop open to a pretty little o.   
  
Keith was close. He finally put a hand on his cock, squirming a little at the heavy-handed touch, and imagining Lance soothing him, gently running his blunted nails over the sensitive skin of Keith’s inner thighs while he was spread so wide, speared on Lance’s dick. Without meaning to, Keith suddenly remembered a story he’d overheard about Lance helping his little niece paint her nails for the first time, and how he’d allowed her to paint his in return, as well as the fond tone in which Lance told the story. Keith moaned aloud and mentally replayed the one time he’d heard Lance genuinely laugh. His prick twitched and leaked more into his sloppy hand. Lance’s laugh was so effortlessly fun. Anyone in earshot was compelled to smile a little at the pure joy of the sound and fu-uck! His hips bucked wildly, the dildo slipping out of his hole with a wet noise, but Keith was already stroking himself through orgasm, sparks flickering behind his eyelids.   
  
As he lay in a large wet spot of his own creation, trying to get enough air into his heaving lungs and come down from the temporary high, Keith tried to rationalize the situation. Sure, the particular aspects of Lance that had really revved his engine may be a tad unconventional, but as an omega, it wasn’t super weird to be turned on by domesticity. Or Lance’s challenging stare since their whole relationship was contentious. That didn’t explain why the giggle he’d overheard Lance make at something Allura said left a sour pit in Keith’s stomach or why the idea that Lance was incredibly hurt by Keith’s actions made Keith feel like the absolute worst. As he drifted off into an uneasy nap, he could find only one conclusion. Keith suspected that his feelings for Lance _might_ go a little farther than simple attraction and desire to be friends. Which was… fucking inconvenient, to say the least.   
  
Keith was a mixture of relieved and disappointed that his heat had ended early Friday afternoon. On the one hand, it meant that he could safely go to the meeting on Saturday with everyone and not have to worry about grossing out Pidge, (that little bitch), or triggering any kind of unwanted behavior from Lance, Shay, or Allura. Not that he would have wanted to make Shay or Allura uncomfortable, but it would have been interesting to see if the rumors were true about other omegas being extra protective over other omegas who were in heat. Also, it meant that he had no excuse not to see Lance. And be ignored. Again. Resigning himself to the treatment was something Keith had grown used to, no matter how much he hated it. He braced his shoulders at the sound of Lance’s braying laugh, so different from the one he’d only heard a few times, echoing throughout Allura’s sacred space as Keith entered.   
  
“Oh come on! It’s never as bad as you make it out to be! Like, remember the time when we snuck out last semester?”  
  
“Which time, Lance?”  
  
“Uh, the coolest time! The meteor shower, duh! I mean, when Pidge first mentioned it, I knew I wanted to watch it, but I figured I’d have to watch, like, a stream somewhere, but when the news said we could see it from campus, I couldn’t leave my best friend in the whole world behind!”  
  
He made a silly face at Hunk who giggled and pumped a fist.  
  
“Best friend status!”  
  
“You say that _now,_ but at the time you were nothing but complaints! All: nooo! Lance! I have to write my essay, I can’t come out with you…”  
  
Hunk rolled his eyes good-naturedly, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. Keith had meant to walk over and let Lance finish the rest of his story; interrupting Lance usually lead to a confrontation Keith would much rather avoid. However, his mouth missed the memo and started talking before consulting with his brain.  
  
“I love stargazing.”  
  
Keith flushed immediately, hunching his shoulders defensively. Fuck! Why did he say that? Lance turned around, the air deflating from his elastic face and hand gestures. He fixed Keith with an inscrutable look during the awkward pause, apparently waiting to see if there was any more to Keith’s unasked for contribution. When there wasn’t, Pidge stepped forward, punching Keith lightly in the shoulder.  
  
“Nice to see you back to normal, man.”  
  
Hunk looked confused.  
  
“Was he not normal?”  
  
“Eh, he just stank when he showed up on Tuesday so I sent him away.”  
  
Keith frowned deeply. Technically, Pidge had given him an out if, for some reason, Keith felt uncomfortable discussing his heats. But taking that out would mean lying and saying he’d come over after some physical activity without showering, or had forgone deodorant. He shifted from one foot to the other, blushing slightly, and avoiding the unspoken question.  
  
“Well, I guess you wouldn’t have known, Hunk.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I asked you to come watch the meteor shower with me kinda at the last minute, so it makes sense that you’d planned on writing your essay. I had asked someone else to go with me and, for some dumb reason, I was pretty certain they would. But, whatever. Anyway, obviously we had to sneak out like the professional ninjas that we are and-“  
  
But what other professions Lance and Hunk had been were lost on Keith. He suddenly remembered a vague outline of a person trying to get his attention in class, excitedly saying something about a passing meteor shower that night. His heart had clenched painfully. It was the anniversary of his father’s death; the man had always loved looking up at the infinite cosmos and Keith couldn’t help but feel bitter. He’d said something dismissive, or maybe nothing at all, but he’d desperately wished that the universe would just stop fucking with him. Wait. Hadn’t Lance said he’d tried to befriend Keith multiple times? Oh. _Oh no._   
  
“I didn’t mean it that way!”  
  
Keith interjected again, trying to get Lance’s attention, his heart beating rapidly. He could clear this misunderstanding up, at least.  
  
“I remember that! You asking me to watch the meteor shower.”  
  
Hunk, Shay, and Pidge all turned to watch him, paying attention. Allura came into the room, likely wondering what was the cause of all the commotion. Instead of going silent like before, Lance continued talking, albeit louder and more animatedly.  
  
“So, the master ninjas, Hunk and Lance! Fearless warriors we were! Sure, hiding in the trashcans wasn’t the greatest idea in terms of smell, but it was totally worth it in avoiding Dr. Prescott in the hallway-“  
  
“Lance! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to tell you off, but that day is-“  
  
“-super sick stealth moves!-”

"Just listen to me!-"  
  
“ENOUGH!”  
  
Keith and Lance bit their tongues. Pidge fumed at them, scrubbing both hands through her wild hair.  
  
“Just cut it out! What kind of a _child_ are you, Lance? Talking louder than someone to drown them out is super annoying and giving me a headache! Ugh, you’re so overdramatic. Keith just said he remembered the incident and there’s been some miscommunication, or something. He just fucking apologized to you. Isn’t that what you wanted? I don’t get you at all! What’s the end goal you’re going for?”  
  
“Perhaps we should all take a moment to calm down-“  
  
“You’re no better, Allura!”  
  
Allura’s mouth dropped open in surprise.   
  
“I heard how you ripped on Lance like, a month ago, or something. Plus, you’ve been super distracted lately, and any time we try to call you out on it, you bite our heads off. I don’t know what’s going on with you, or Lance, because neither of you seem to want to _do_ anything about your problems! I have a lot of respect for you and you’re my friend, but I can’t stand hypocrites and you trying to advocate for peace and harmony is just laughable.”  
  
Keith glanced around, taking in everyone’s uneasy expressions. Lance had turned away, arms crossed firmly over his chest and pouting. Pidge openly glared at Allura who seemed unable to decide between shooting guilty looks at Lance or getting defensive. After weighing his options for a few moments, he nodded slightly to himself.  
  
“I think I’m going to sit this meeting out. I don’t want to…make things more complicated.”  
  
He flicked his eyes over to Pidge.  
  
“I’ll see you on Tuesday, okay?”  
  
Pidge considered him, then inclined her head, mutely accepting his decision.   
  
“I really didn’t mean those words to you Lance, and I’m sorry.”  
  
Lance stared at the ground miserably. Keith sighed and turned on his heel, exiting Allura’s house at a brisk pace. Before he could mount his bike and race away from his issues though, someone grabbed him by the sleeve. His heart jumped to his throat and he whipped his head around. At the sight of Allura standing there, sheepishly letting go of his jacket, Keith couldn’t help the small noise of disappointment.   
  
“I…appreciate this gesture, Keith. When I go back inside, we are all going to have a serious discussion. I just want to make sure that you know this is a temporary problem. All of us have had difficulties with being excluded growing up, for different reasons, and I can say with confidence that none of us want you to feel that way. While I do believe that Lance ought to know better, and that his behavior needs to change, I was perhaps, a tad overenthusiastic in my reprimand. I said things I regret. We all need to take responsibility in this coven.”  
  
Keith tried to nod and leave, still fighting down the wave of sadness that said Lance really hated him and wanted him to feel excluded, no matter what Allura said. Allura waved off his attempts and squared her shoulders.  
  
“I also would like to apologize.”  
  
That got Keith’s attention. He turned to face her fully and saw Allura fidget in a way he’d have never associated with her. She wouldn’t look straight at him and she curled a lock of hair gently around a finger.   
  
“I feel that I have played a role in…”  
  
She paused delicately,  
  
“Escalating the situation between you and Lance. Unintentional though it may have been, Pidge made a good point. I have been quite short with him, far beyond what was warranted. Though I will go in and explain my reasoning to them all momentarily, I would like you to know as well. If only so that your opinion of me might be salvaged a little.”  
  
Keith opened his mouth to tell Allura that she didn’t have to. There was obviously something between her and Lance, some problem that had to be resolved, but there was no reason to involve him if it made her uncomfortable. She waved him off.  
  
“Lance and I have known each other for a long time. Growing up, my family would summer in Cuba, near where he lived, and we spent every summer together, playing in the sand. As a child, I always looked forward to escaping the dreary English weather and seeing my friend. As we got older, though, we presented and matured, physically, and he started treating me differently. He flirted with me incessantly, to the point of discomfort. When I tried to tell him that I wasn’t interested in him that way, he refused to accept it, instead redoubling his efforts to woo me. No matter how often I rejected his advances, he didn’t respect my no. It was disrespectful and hurtful. It put an enormous strain on our friendship and made me feel like the bad guy. Like if I could just return his feelings, I could get my friend back…”  
  
She trailed off for a moment.  
  
“It took us a long time to reach an understanding. Only recently, since we began university actually, have we managed to move on and rekindle our previous friendship and closeness. I was so _happy._ I’d missed him terribly. His support, his friendship, even his awful jokes. So then, to have you join the group and have him start trying to exclude you and belittle you at every moment, well. I admit, I jumped to conclusions, based on your omega status. I was scared of losing the balance we’d achieved, but mostly I was furious that I’d have to deal with all of that again. This is my fault, letting old angers dictate my actions, and it has only hurt us all. For that, Keith, I am so sorry.”  
  
He gently rested a hand on her shoulder, not sure of the best way to comfort her. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.   
  
“Allura, I forgive you. Lance and I have some issues of our own that we have to work out. I think it’s going to take awhile; we’re both, ah, passionate people. But, I think some of it is that he is already sort of defensive about other things. Being able to resolve stuff with you should definitely help. I don’t know if he and I will ever be friends, but I hope eventually we can be civil. Maybe he just needs to think about stuff…”  
  
Keith awkwardly mounted his bike and tried to give Allura an encouraging smile. She returned one and he pretended not to notice how it wobbled in the corners. He ended up driving around for hours, trying and failing to not think about Lance. The following Saturday meeting proceeded sedately, but Keith couldn’t help noticing that Lance barely spoke, outside of his ritual part. When the first Saturday of September went the same way, Keith felt agitation creeping up on him. Even when he’d been ignoring Keith, Lance had never been _quiet._ He did everything loudly. Even the silent treatment involved over-emphasized gestures, loud sighing, and huge eye-rolling. But with each passing meeting, Lance became more withdrawn. Keith could see the worried gazes of everyone when he wasn’t facing them; figured he was wearing one of his own too. Hunk tried to lift everyone’s spirits by discussing their plans for Mabon, one of Lance’s treasured harvest holidays, but Lance merely gave a half smile and a less than enthusiastic response. Lance made his excuses and left a little bit earlier than everyone else, leaving them to slowly clean up Allura’s room and use the restroom before they departed.   
  
“Oh my god! I am seriously this close to just slapping him!”  
  
Keith looked up angrily at Pidge’s outburst. She hadn’t been exactly nice to Lance during the meeting. She’d needled him, poking fun at every other action, and berated him for his lackluster performance in the ritual itself. She’d even gone so far as to accuse him of not wanting to be part of the coven anymore since all he ever did was go through the motions. She’d sneered that he’d contributed nothing for almost a month. At first, Keith had agreed that Lance needed a kick in the ass to get him back on track. Maybe if Pidge pissed him off he’d go on one of his long-winded rants and set the general atmosphere of the friends more at ease. But instead, Lance had simply accepted the abuse, hardly doing more than blinking at Pidge and hoarsely agreeing with her accusations.   
  
“Pidge, can you stop?”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Just cut it out! Lance doesn’t need you making fun of him every second!”  
  
Hunk chimed in, glancing between a seething Keith and Pidge nervously.  
  
“Yeah, maybe saying he didn’t even want to be here with us went too far…”  
  
“Oh, well, Keith, since you know Lance _so well,_ maybe you can tell me what to do!”  
  
Keith flinched, but didn’t back down. Pidge didn't stop either.   
  
“He’s getting stuck in his own head and someone needs to get him out. Everyone else is just coddling him and you tiptoe around him like coming within 5 feet of him will make him shatter. So what am I supposed to do? It seemed like he would only respond to someone being combative lately, but now he won’t even do that! News flash! I’m not the warm and fuzzy type! When someone has an issue, I lay out solutions to actually, I don’t know, _solve the fucking problem._ But it’s like Lance doesn’t want solutions! He knows how I operate, so why would he come to me if he didn’t want a resolution?! At first, he wanted to rant all the goddamn time, which was already annoying since he wasn’t doing anything to make it better, but now he barely says a word. He doesn’t want to hang out, or hug, or banter, or fight, or do anything…”  
  
Keith’s fists unclenched and he hesitantly stepped forward, once more out of his element. The closer he got, the more of a shine was visible behind Pidge’s glasses.   
  
“I just want you two to be friends. You’d be so good together. We’ve all tried having rational conversations with them. And, you know, Hunk is good at the whole,”  
  
She gestured towards Hunk who swooped in immediately for a soul-crushing hug. Her voice was muffled by his comforting bulk.  
  
“Sympathy thing, but that’s not solving anything either. I don’t even know if it’s making him feel better, since he’s not talking!”  
  
She pulled away from Hunk to stare at Keith, eyes ablaze.  
  
“He’s not listening to anyone either and if this is the only way I can do it, then I am going to _make_ him listen. Fine, maybe I’m being too hard on him. But three weeks ago, we all had a good talk and I thought things would change. I guess they did, but not how I’d hoped.”  
  
Keith shrugged helplessly. He still had a sliver of hope that Lance just needed time to think things over and that he’d come around.   
  
“Maybe the upcoming holiday will help. It’ll be a chance to take our minds off of personal problems for a while and just enjoy.”  
  
Pidge muttered something about Lance missing the last holiday, but Keith promised himself that Lance would come to Mabon, even if he had to personally fetch the guy and drag him to Allura’s. Not that he had any real idea of where Lance lived, outside of just the dorms, but even if he couldn’t, probably Hunk would do the job for him. All of them desperately needed an excuse to be happy and have fun together, Lance most of all. Keith doubted that anyone would let him miss it, no matter how ‘sick’ he claimed to be. Luckily, it didn’t come down to that.   
  
Keith was already in a good mood. To his secret delight, for Mabon, Keith had been tasked with decorations. The candles were colored according to cardinal direction and each person left their own token of their quarter by their candle. He noticed that someone had been able to sneak some wine into the goblet for Lance. Keith wrinkled his nose. They were all underage, but he’d tasted wine once before and it was _gross._ Suppressing a small shudder at the wine, he left Pidge’s basket of apples in the center because she had indicated that they would be passed out and used in the ritual, but the extra ears of corn and small gourds that Hunk had acquired were free real estate. He took great joy in scattering both the fallen leaves and twigs Pidge had collected from her greenhouse and around the field. He’d been pleased to see that they had returned to the secluded spot in the park where they’d celebrated Lughnassadh. Hunk had assured him that, as long as the weather was good, they usually held sabbat rituals in that area because it was a nice park and no one ever bothered them.   
  
For Keith’s solitary ritual within the circle, as a sort of participant, Pidge had given him his own apple and a red tea light candle. She’d described a few different types of prayers for prosperity or to show gratitude, but there was one for a goddess named Pomona that he’d read about on the internet. He blushed a little bit, hiding behind his bangs unconsciously. It was…technically a love spell. But the way he’d read it, the spell seemed flexible enough to encompass platonic relationships too. Like before, Keith figured that an extra bit of magick to sway Lance’s opinion of him certainly couldn’t make anything worse than it already was. When Lance showed up to their meeting spot, of his own volition apparently, Keith gave a silent cheer. He smiled warmly at Lance’s back, not wanting to freak the guy out, but hoping the positive energy would get through to him anyway. As everyone took their starting positions, Keith tucked his legs under himself and held onto his apple, sitting between Hunk and Pidge, the Northern and Eastern quarters, respectively. Once everyone was ready, they began with Hunk.  
  
“Welcome, element of earth! May the power of the harvest moon grant us prosperity and abundance during this season of bounty.”  
  
“Welcome, element of air! During this time of the harvest moon, bless us with knowledge and breath.”  
  
“Welcome, element of fire! May the golden light of the harvest moon illuminate us with passion and protection.”  
  
“Welcome, element of water! May the blessings of the harvest moon wash over us, bringing the gifts of intuition and l-love.”  
  
Was it Keith’s imagination or had Lance stuttered, ever so slightly, over his part of the incantation? He definitely had fidgeted a little. Before he could think about it too hard, Allura took over smoothly.  
  
“We raise our eyes to our matron lady. Goddess of the forest, and all creatures who live within, grant us illumination and courage, grace, and wisdom. Bless us with prosperity, in this time of bounty across the earth, encourage our gratitude and charity. Bless us with health, wealth, and mirth. We raise a glass to our horned lord. Let’s eat, drink, dance, and be merry! The autumn equinox is here! We call the god to join us in this harvest year.”  
  
Lance sipped the goblet of wine and choked a little. Pidge’s glasses glinted mischievously in the waning light and Hunk smiled broadly, but it was Shay who waved at Lance proudly, pointing at her own chest to take credit. Keith raised his eyebrows. He pursed his lips; impressed with her pranking abilities. Shay probably got underestimated too frequently, so Keith made a mental note to keep a keen eye on her. After invocations, everyone took a seat, similar to Keith. Last time, he’d waited until they were all meditating to begin his personal ritual, but no one had closed their eyes yet. He glanced around, but everyone was focused on Allura, so he watched her too. She cleared her throat delicately.  
  
“I suppose I can start. Everyone be thinking about what you are thankful for and what goals you have harvested.”  
  
As an aside, for Keith’s benefit, she went on to clarify:  
  
“In the spring, we all chose certain seeds, or ideas, that we wished to plant in our minds. To give us something to work towards throughout the summer. Some of those ideas may have either come to fruition or have shown tangible progress since then and we share them now with pride.”  
  
“I am thankful, as always, for this group of friends. I went through a very difficult time last winter when my father passed, but each of you supported me and helped me move forward. I think of him every day and how happy he was that I had such kind people surrounding me. The goal I harvest now is to honor his memory by enjoying my life and the people in it, as I know he would have wanted me to.”  
  
She broke off, a little choked up. Hunk reached over to hug her around the shoulders, his own eyes glossy. Pidge passed around the small basket of apples and Allura proceeded to eat hers. Hunk kept the gratitude going, thankful for his family, his found family amongst their group of friends, and for living in an area where he always had access to delicious cooking ingredients.   
  
“For my goal, I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly ready for harvesting…yet…”  
  
He trailed off awkwardly, blushing and stealing shy glances across the circle towards Shay who also fidgeted nervously, running her fingers through her short hair and fixing her earrings. Keith smiled, seeing the others roll their eyes. It was obvious how much the two liked each other; he’d picked up on it even after only being around for a few months. He would be studying under Hunk after Pidge so maybe he could persuade Hunk to finally make a long-awaited move. Hunk crunched on his apple contentedly once his turn was over. Keith sat patiently while Pidge expressed her thanks for everyone being around while her brother and father were gone and keeping her company. She contended that, as an actual gardener, she had plants to harvest and didn’t need ideas. Shay chided her, but picked up where Pidge left off. Keith didn’t mean to zone out, but he couldn’t help glancing around the circle, thinking how grateful he was for being accepted and the unconditional trust on offer. He wondered what ideas he would plant the following spring.  
  
“I’m thankful for my family. I really miss them, but they’ve always been good for Skype calls and stuff, even though they’re a couple hours ahead of us. My goals were mostly about getting good grades and, thanks to Hunk and Shay’s amazing tutoring sessions, I brought my grades up a lot. I’m no genius like you guys, but I’m doing better.”  
  
Keith smiled at Lance, even though he didn’t look Keith’s way. He was glad that Lance had brought his grades up; they were in college to _learn_ after all. But, at the same time, he couldn’t help but notice that Lance was the only person who wasn’t grateful for their coven. He’d thanked Hunk and Shay for their tutoring, but everyone else had said something about being grateful to the entire group and somehow, Keith didn’t think Lance’s omission was accidental. Keith’s heart thudded painfully. What if it was his fault? He knew Pidge was frustrated with their ‘dumb antics’, as she called it, and he’d been the one to trigger Allura’s past anger again. He dug the edge of his thumbnail into his apple miserably. The others settled into their meditation poses and closed their eyes so Keith shook himself out of his depressed reverie and concentrated on his own ritual.  
  
Keith lit his candle and balanced it on the small plate he’d used last time. He’d been a little distracted when the breeze picked up and the way it had blown Lance’s hair gently over his face. Unsurprisingly, windswept was a good look on him. Keith rolled his eyes at himself. _That and every other look._ He’d sighed and had to relight his candle. He clutched the apple tightly in his hand, using a pocket knife to carve a symbol on it. Originally, Keith had a pentacle in mind, but the skin of the apple gave way under his knife too easily and, unable to salvage the design, he’d gone for a hastily scratched heart instead. It was supposed to be a love spell, even if Keith didn’t have any hope for romantic love. Hopefully, the goddess would understand. Magick was all about intention anyway.   
  
_Goddess Pomona, of light and love_  
 _Bearer of abundance, below and above_  
 _Please just let him look my way_  
 _I’d like to know him better someday_  
  
He repeated the words three times, just to make sure he was clear and that the spell would take. Once he’d finished, he began to consume the apple while he concentrated on Lance, the target of his spell. He contemplated them as friends, spending time together casually, maybe challenging each other to silly competitions. The picture of Lance slinging a tanned arm around Keith’s neck, trying to give him a friendly noogie, was so clear in his mind that his shoulders ached with the imagined weight. He opened his eyes, a few bites into the apple, only to see that everyone else was already standing and preparing to open the circle. The sun was mostly gone from the sky, leaving behind a pinkish tapestry of fluffy clouds and a flock of birds, dark against the horizon. He stopped crunching while they spoke, not wanting to be obnoxious, despite Hunk’s knowing wink, but demolished it after the circle was opened. He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d become during the ritual, or how much time had passed.   
  
“Don’t worry, Keith! Hunk packed a veritable feast of sandwiches, corn casserole, pumpkin bread, spiced cider, and blackberry pie.”  
  
Keith’s mouth started to water at Shay’s description and he scrambled over to the cooler where everyone was mobbing poor Hunk. He laughingly distributed the food, giving everyone a sandwich and a plastic cup before shooing them away, back onto the blanket. Everything else was placed in front of them, with some disposable serving utensils, and no one wasted any time tucking in to the delicious meal. By the time the last piece of blackberry pie had been polished off, (by Shay, who surprised Keith by eating like a ravenous wolf), Keith was starting to feel a little bit sleepy. The frisbee had materialized for the outing, but since the ritual had begun later than Lughnassadh, and they’d all just eaten so much heavy food, it ended up being a sedate sabbat. They all joked around and enjoyed each other’s company from the comfort of their blankets, hauling out flashlights when it started to get darker. In the midst of the light-hearted banter, Pidge presented Keith with a small, pungent linen pouch.  
  
“I know we still have another week together, but I thought I’d give you this in front of everyone so we could start a tradition.”  
  
Keith accepted the pouch, gingerly sniffing it. It reminded him of fall; cinnamon and clove scents permeating the air. He voiced his suspicions about it and Pidge nodded.  
  
“Yeah. I figured everyone could give you a little something at the end of our training, since you don’t have anything for your own altar. Herbs are my specialty, so I gave you ones that are associated with the autumn equinox to get started. Cinnamon for prosperity, cloves for protection, nutmeg for determination, although you seem to have enough of that already, and sage for wisdom.”  
  
Keith was touched by the gesture and gave Pidge a brief side hug, unable to put his feelings into words. She rolled her eyes at him and shoved him away, albeit gently. Allura heartily agreed with the newly established tradition, declaring the entire thing to be a success.   
  
The wine that Shay had pranked Lance with was passed around, although only Allura seemed to partake very much. Shay flatly refused to tell anyone where or how she’d gotten ahold of it. Keith assumed Allura mostly held onto it because people in England were more accustomed to wine, but Pidge whispered that it was because Allura wanted to seem more grown up and _sophisticated._ Keith returned that Pidge might just be jealous, being such a little baby herself. It quickly devolved into a partial wrestling match of Pidge trying to grab the wine bottle with the intent to chug it and prove herself. When Keith had pinned her successfully and she pouted, complaining loudly, he glanced up at the chuckling onlookers. Lance, who had watched the entire thing, was laughing along with the others. When he noticed Keith’s staring, Keith had expected Lance to break the eye contact or drop the expression, but instead, Lance held Keith’s gaze, his smile softening almost imperceptibly. Keith’s heart raced and he blamed it on the physical exertion. But once he’d let Pidge up, he couldn’t help but hope that maybe the goddess really had heard his prayers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to try and get up a new chapter every other Friday! Thank you for bearing with me.

Keith should have known better than to think that one brief smile during Mabon would mean that Lance had totally forgiven him. He should have, and he did know better, deep in his heart, but that didn’t stop it from hurting the following Saturday when Lance was back to his quiet daze. Keith could see that the others were also surprised by Lance’s behavior, or frustrated, in Pidge’s case. Keith scoffed internally; as if one good time would be enough to change the group’s damaged dynamic. He couldn’t blame them for hoping though. Fortifying himself with a deep breath, Keith had come fully into the room, tired of hanging back in the doorway, and determined to try and make the best of the situation. He took encouragement from the way Lance seemed a bit more engaged, making eye contact readily, (and if Keith felt a little bit like celebrating when his nod and soft hello was returned with a nod, well, that was something else entirely).   
  
Next Monday was the first of October and his first studying session with Hunk. Now that classes were getting into the swing of things, Hunk and Keith had struggled a little bit to find meet up times that worked for both of their schedules. Eventually, they settled on Monday evenings and Thursday mornings. It was only possible because they both lived in the dorms and it was only a five minute walk to Hunk’s dorm. Keith had offered his own room because, though he’d waited in nervous anticipation, he hadn’t been assigned a roommate for the fall semester. Hunk had, but for their first meeting he thought it would be better to show Keith his altar and his roommate would be out the majority of Monday nights for some club. Keith privately wondered why Hunk and Lance weren’t living together; he’d assumed they were until Hunk recently mentioned his own new roommate. They seemed compatible, Hunk as his easy-going self, and most people would rather live with someone they already knew. At the time, Keith hadn’t said anything about his curiosity, and, afterwards, it felt awkward to bring it up to ask. Somehow, it felt like a weird subject to broach.   
  
“Hey, Keith! Thanks for coming over. I think Juan will be back in a few hours, but until then, we’ve got the room all to ourselves. Make yourself comfortable!”  
  
He gestured towards a plush, bright yellow butterfly chair. Keith tried to sit in it normally, but lost his balance since the seat was lower than he expected, and he fell into it with a huff. He had to give Hunk some credit; the chair was comfy. He just wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get out of it again. When he’d finished settling, Hunk beamed at him and ambled over to a trunk at the foot of his bed.   
  
“I’m pretty lucky, actually. Juan is super chill about the whole Wicca thing. He said that as long as my altar stays on my side of the room, he doesn’t mind at all… Uh, okay, how did Pidge start? Just holding up different items and explaining what they are?”  
  
Keith blinked and scrambled to sit forward in the chair, (a futile endeavor).  
  
“She talked about her goddess first, then about her specialties. Then she explained the altar tools.”  
  
Hunk nodded and tapped his chin thoughtfully, shuffling over to sit cross-legged on his bed, facing Keith. Keith whipped out his phone, opened a fresh note, and cracked his knuckles, ready for Hunk to info dump.  
  
“Right. I’m, uh, Samoan, so the god I mainly worship is called Tagaloa. My family actually has a small shrine to him at our house back on Savai’i, which, if you didn’t know, is the biggest island of Samoa. Tagaloa is a creator god, kind of like Zeus in Greek mythology, I guess? Not all the raping women and cheating on your wife constantly part, but the being in charge, creating the whole universe thing. Crap, wait, Zeus didn’t create the universe did he? Never mind, ignore that. The point is: various myths talk about how he rolled stones into the oceans of Earth to make the islands of Samoa and how he sent a vine to Earth that evolved into worms which then evolved into humans. Basically, he’s a super important god that influenced everything from the land we call home, to the sun, to us being alive, even to why our houses were traditionally round.”  
  
Keith nodded to show that he understood, rapidly adding all of Tagaloa’s influences/accomplishments under his supremely creative title: First Meeting With Hunk. (His other titles weren’t much better.) Hunk graciously paused until Keith looked up at him again, ready to continue.  
  
“More importantly to you, my specialties are earth based magick, which is, like, any spell that mostly relies on the earth spirit, or uses soil as a key ingredient, or involves burying something in the ground, tea leaf reading, banishing, and cooking magick. I won’t be able to demonstrate banishing, but everything else will be fine.”  
  
“What’s the difference between banishing and what Pidge talked about, cleansing? Isn’t banishing a Christian thing, like exorcism?”  
  
Hunk brought up a hand and tilted it back and forth in a so-so motion.  
  
“There isn’t a huge difference, just that cleansing is kind of a preemptive move to get rid of general negative energy before it consolidates into a real problem and banishing is for, like, a _problem_. It gets a little murky in the explanation department because some Wiccans believe in things like ghosts, or angry spirits, or fae folk, or poltergeists, etc. Those need to be banished, or subdued and relocated, I guess. And, remember, all religions influence each other pretty heavily. So exorcisms are the same thing done differently. For people who don’t believe in spirits, then banishing is pretty much the same thing as cleansing, so it’s really up to you.”  
  
“I believe.”  
  
Hunk laughed at Keith’s unwavering tone and firm gaze.   
  
“Well, that’s good, I guess? Me too. But it means that I can’t demonstrate banishing, unless there’s something around for me to banish, and I kinda hope there isn’t because that means some shit is going down.”  
  
“Have you ever needed to do something like that? How did you even know that you’re good at it?”  
  
Hunk scratched his head, shifting the always-present orange headband he insisted on wearing with every outfit.  
  
“Well, my mom and my grandmother are good at it. So, a lot of what I know, I learned from them. Sort of. I mean, they’re not Wiccans or anything; just superstitious. I guess my knowledge is a combination of my own research and their traditions. I’ve had to do banishing twice in my life, both for super creepy places and ugh,“ Hunk shuddered dramatically, “it is not an experience that I’m keen to repeat.”  
  
Keith smiled, adding the words: No Creepy Places under that day’s notes. He had a niggling feeling that tea leaf reading would be a kind of magick that would hold no interest for him, but earth based magick seemed pretty essential and, based on previous experience, Keith was _thrilled_ to taste more of Hunk’s cooking, magickal or not. Hunk wiggled his legs out from underneath him and walked over to his altar, lifting the items one by one to show Keith. Keith struggled to escape the butterfly chair to get a closer look, but Hunk took pity on him and yanked Keith bodily up. Keith stumbled at Hunk’s unexpected strength, but quickly regained his footing with an embarrassed thanks and knelt down next to Hunk in front of the altar. Hunk pointed out his cauldron, for holding soil during solo spells or herbs on a holiday. Next to it was a jar of black, fine-grained sand that Hunk explained was blessed in a spell he’d teach Keith next full moon since it was simple earth magick. He made Keith write down a reminder since it would be three and a half weeks before the moon was full again. Keith dutifully recorded the information. There was a small bowl of salt, a large softly pink conch shell that Hunk proudly explained was from Lance, and a beautiful knife with an ebony handle that Keith was immediately jealous of, (Hunk called it an athame).   
  
Hunk sighed over the large plate in the bottom right corner of the altar and the unshucked corn lying atop it.   
  
“I wish I had a real kitchen to cook in. The dorm kitchen is okay, but you know those smoke alarms are _way_ too sensitive to do much. Even popcorn sets them off! Plus, everyone needs access to it and they leave their dirty dishes in the sink and it’s just unsanitary! Bleh! I do what I can, and both Allura and Pidge let me come over to use their kitchens for special occasions, but I always feel bad imposing…”  
  
Unable to come up with a reasonable alternative and not wanting Hunk to dwell too much on his lack of cooking areas, Keith gestured to the only item left on the altar that hadn’t been discussed yet. He recognized the symbol as a pentacle, but it seemed to be made of fired clay that had been painted. What drew his attention was how, neat as the lines were, it didn’t have the look of a mass produced item. Hunk brightened up at it.  
  
“Oh yeah! I just made that last year during my ceramics elective!”  
  
Keith took a closer look, impressed with Hunk’s attention to detail. He’d mentioned that he was studying mechanical engineering though, so maybe Keith shouldn’t have been surprised.  
  
“Wow. That’s really cool, Hunk.”  
  
“Thanks buddy! I really liked my class and the prof and I got along great. She actually gave me permission to come into the lab and make other things, use the kiln or whatever, whenever I want, as long as I chip in some money for supplies.”  
  
Keith raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
“Are you, uh, working on anything right now?”  
  
He’d meant the inquiry innocently enough, but to his surprise, Hunk flushed a dark crimson.  
  
“Well, it’s nothing big, you know…”  
  
Keith waited.  
  
“It’s, um, another pentacle. Like this one. I thought, since this one turned out well, that it’d be a nice gift.”  
  
Keith stared at Hunk blankly, his thoughts taking a moment to catch up. Then his mouth curled up in a sly smirk.  
  
“I bet Shay will love it.”  
  
Hunk started shaking his head, protesting that he never _said_ it was for Shay, why would Keith just assume something like that? And, if it was for Shay, which he definitely wasn’t saying it was, should he use the same color scheme or should he try something different? Something that might match her personality better? Or should it be holiday oriented since it would be a holiday prompted gift? Hunk fretted about his not-gift aloud and Keith laughed, playing along as best he could.  
  
Another week went by, plenty of time for Keith to settle into his new routine with Hunk. Keith had successfully squashed the temptation to interrogate Hunk about Lance, what was going on with him, or how to make it better. He’d learned his lesson about going to other members of the group when his trepidation over Lance’s behavior grew too high from Pidge and Allura and Keith was determined not to make that mistake again. He and Hunk switched their meet-ups to Keith’s room, since it had more space. They’d just returned from a silly trip to the library, curious about the kinds of ‘New Age’ or ‘Spiritual’ selections offered at their school. Which was when Keith’s mouth decided that it was a good time to fuck things up.  
  
“Hey, Hunk?”  
  
Hunk hummed inquisitively, squinting down at a tea leaf reading book he’d managed to find at their university library. The expression on his face suggested that the book wasn’t living up to expectations, but Keith was too busy blurting out his next question to notice.  
  
“Isn’t Lance kind of…quiet? It’s better than when I first joined, like he’s talking more between rituals and not doing that weirdly loud fake laugh thing as much, but I think he’s still, uh, not good?”  
  
Hunk focused on Keith, his momentary scrutiny intense. Then, he broke the tension by chuckling awkwardly.  
  
“Well, you’re not wrong. But I think Lance will, ah, get over it. He sort of, mm, takes everything very…personally?”  
  
Keith bristled at the implication.  
  
“So you agree with Pidge and don’t think he has the right to be hurt? That’s he’s just being overdramatic? I mean, I barely know the guy, but I’ve been around for three months now. I was there for his supposed _friends_ taking him to task. Maybe he deserved it, but this definitely goes beyond someone ‘taking things very personally’!”  
  
Hunk tried to interrupt his rant, but Keith barreled onwards, snarky and uncaring.  
  
“I thought you were his best friend.”  
  
“Yeah, I did too.”  
  
At Hunk’s quiet statement, Keith finally got ahold of his temper and his runaway mouth to pay attention. Hunk’s shoulders slumped and his gaze was directed towards the ground. Keith felt his anger deflate at Hunk’s obvious sadness and confusing words.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Hunk shrugged helplessly, setting the book aside, but still refusing to make eye contact with Keith.  
  
“Honestly? I’m not even totally sure myself. Pretty much, since this past spring, Lance had been acting really different.”  
  
Keith raised his eyebrows. Spring? That was before Keith had even thought of joining their coven. Part of him, (that sounded suspiciously like Shiro), chided himself for thinking that he was the cause of everything going on with Lance.   
  
“I…don’t know how much to say. I don’t want to invade Lance’s privacy and _he_ ought to be the one telling you this stuff, but…I mean, it’s impacting you too. Lance doesn’t have an obligation to share it, but I feel like you’re entitled to know some things; just to keep the peace with all of us…”  
  
Hunk sighed, trailing off. Keith wanted to speak up, to tell Hunk that it was fine, he didn’t have to reveal anything private about Lance. If Keith had been a better person, he might have said that. But he wasn’t and _dammit_ he was curious. After a few moments of silence, Hunk came to a conclusion on his own and hesitantly began explaining.  
  
“Okay so, I’ll do my best here to keep it vague. Just for background, Lance and I have been friends for many years; we were pen-pals as kids and we went back and forth to visit each other during summer breaks. Basically, I know Lance’s family really well. Anyway, when Lance started being weird and wouldn’t tell me what was going on, I talked to his family. The only people Lance is closer with than his friends are his family. I thought for sure they’d know how to help, or what was happening. But they didn’t. They were just as worried as me. When we found out Lance wasn’t talking to me or his family, well. I didn’t react well. I could have handled it better.”  
  
Hunk paused for a second, inhaling sharply. He untied his headband and laid it across his lap, rubbing his fingers through it.  
  
“It was a stupid idea, but I thought that if I cornered Lance and forced him to talk to me I’d finally get some answers. By then it was like April or May and it obviously wasn’t something that would just resolve itself without help. Seriously, why did I think that would work? All it did was make Lance defensive, saying how I’d gone behind his back to his family and shit. So, it didn’t work. And I was mad at Lance too. Some of it was personal, since we’ve been friends for so long, but he was also worrying his family. I thought it was selfish that he just…shut us all out. But, I mean, I also couldn’t exactly do anything to help if I both didn’t know the problem and Lance didn’t trust me not to repeat it. So…I just sort of, stopped.”  
  
Keith tilted his head and waited for Hunk to elaborate.  
  
“I backed off. Figured that when Lance was ready to come to me, he would. But then, everything with you joining happened and, like, the next thing I know Lance tells me Allura is going to kick him out of the coven if he doesn’t start getting along with you.”  
  
Keith’s jaw dropped. _What?_ Allura threatened to kick Lance out because of him? Guilt and anger swirled through his mind, lacing every thought with the emotions. Hunk watched as Keith’s expression went from incredulous to murderous and he hastened to defuse the situation, holding his hands up placatingly.  
  
“Okay, I don’t think she actually said that though! Lance said that, but I honestly don’t think she even implied that, considering how much Lance used to genuinely annoy her. She never once mentioned it before, so why would she now? I don’t think she did. Lance has always had a tendency to read more into every little word and overanalyze social situations until he ends up with an entire interpretation the other person never intended. This year, it’s definitely gotten worse.”  
  
Keith relaxed minutely, unclenching his jaw. He took a few deep breaths, wanting to hear the rest.  
  
“It’s hard, I guess. For me, I mean. I really want to be there for him, but he just wants to distance himself. I don’t want to make it about me, but it’s hurtful, you know?”  
  
Keith nodded, as if he understood.  
  
“It’s tempting. To be like Pidge and want to solve everything, right here, right now. But people don’t work that way. I thought that, at least, if I could get the others to lay off of him too, it would help. I tried to talk to Pidge and Allura about toning it down. I know they’re just as worried as I am, but they didn’t have the whole story and they’re kind of aggressive about things. As you could see, that wasn’t a good idea either. Allura wasn’t ready to forgive Lance for everything with their own relationship and I guess you were the straw that broke the camel’s back on that one. Not that you should feel guilty! It really wasn’t your fault. But, Allura was still being passive aggressive and before I had a chance to talk to Pidge, Lance somehow found out what I was doing and asked me not to bother saying anything to Pidge. That he’d deal with it. But it was clear that yelling at Lance and Pidge’s attempts to get actively involved in Lance’s problems, or prying into their cause, were the wrong way to go about it. So, I guess you could say I’m trying to do the opposite. Not because I’ve given up or anything, but Lance just wants to be left alone. I want to respect his wishes and do that, as long as he won’t tell me otherwise. That’s what I’d recommend to you too, Keith. Just…give Lance time to work things out for himself.”  
  
“That’s it? Wait and see?”  
  
“What else can we do? When Lance has something stuck on his mind, he can’t hear anything else. Not evidence to the contrary in an argument, or explanations, or apologies. Nothing! I don’t like it any more than you do, but I’ve been waiting for my best friend to come back to me for months.”  
  
Keith looked at his hands, picking at his cuticles, chagrined. Hunk was right of course. He knew Lance way better than Keith.   
  
“Times like Mabon, even though it was super fun, are sorta depressing too. It was like Lance, the real Lance, resurfaced and was there, smiling and laughing with us. But the next time I saw him, it was like Mabon didn’t even happen. I mean, not entirely. We did actually have a real talk for the first time in like…months.”  
  
Keith perked up.  
  
“That’s great, Hunk! What did he say?”  
  
“Well, it’s personal. Too personal, I think. But, basically, he’s doing some things that are helping with the, uh, stuff, and he needs slow and steady support. He’s still unsure about how well everything will turn out, but me? I have a good feeling about the future.”  
  
He gave Keith a significant look that Keith didn’t really understand. He bit his lip, knowing that Hunk had already clarified a lot and he really _shouldn’t_ pry any further, but…  
  
“Can you tell me about the meteor shower thing? If nothing else, I should apologize to Lance for that, or something. When he’s ready to hear it. I wasn’t doing well that day.”  
  
Hunk sighed heavily, flipping idly through the book in his lap, but not even trying to skim the paragraphs whizzing by.  
  
“Okay. I don’t really know how it could help, since I didn’t pay attention when Lance ranted to me about it because it was after he’d started pulling away and I was still mad at him, but I’ll tell you what I remember. It really hurt Lance’s feelings, though I’m sure you’ve guessed that. Apparently, he’d seen you, like a week before, some night, maybe after a class? You were sitting on a bench holding your astronomy textbook open and watching the stars. I think Lance was still trying to figure out how to get to know you and was confident that you’d have a bonding moment over stargazing and being big space nerds.”  
  
Guilt and sadness suffused Keith’s very core. For pushing someone away who just wanted to hang out with him; had even tried to choose something he knew Keith would enjoy doing. But, at the same time, he knew enough about Lance to assume that if Lance had known what Keith had been going through that day, it would lessen the residual sting of rejection. Maybe it still could. Keith steadied himself, quickly deciding to explain to Hunk something he’d never once said aloud. His voice was rough and stilted with pain.  
  
“I used to watch the stars all the time. With my, uh, my dad. Before he…died. I still do sometimes, but it hurts? I promised myself I’d be an astronaut to honor him, but that’s different from just stargazing…And it felt like the worst kind of irony that the meteor shower happened on the date he died. I think I said something to Lance, but I swear I wasn’t talking to him! He mentioned the meteor shower and I just-just snapped.”  
  
Keith huffed and crossed his arms protectively over his chest, not wanting to see the look of pity and sympathy that Hunk no doubt was sending his way. He continued quietly.  
  
“Anyway, if he won’t listen to me, could you tell him? I just want Lance to know that I wasn’t, um, turning him down. Another time I think…I’d have really liked that. A lot. It was just too much to deal with. I know it’s not a big deal, and he and I have other issues I guess, but this could be one less thing for him to hate about me.”  
  
“Lance doesn’t hate you-“  
  
“Please.”  
  
Keith bit out the words, interrupting Hunk. He didn’t want to see his pity and he sure as _hell_ didn’t want to hear some placating bullshit. He glanced at Hunk briefly to gauge his expression. Hunk looked dubious, but not unwilling.  
  
“I don’t know how much it’ll change anything right now, but, if you really want me to, I’ll tell him.”  
  
Hunk seemed less than enthusiastic, but his agreement still set Keith’s mind somewhat at ease. He’d spent months either wondering why Lance disliked him or dwelling on his inability to be productive in mending their relationship. As much as was possible. Or feeling a combination of guilt from his past treatment and uncomfortable attraction. And then more guilt as a result. Even with Hunk’s lack of optimism, Keith couldn’t help seeing how Lance returned his nods and hellos at the beginning of Saturday meetings. It could have been the placebo effect or confirmation bias, or one of those psych terms Shiro was always casually throwing out in conversation like he wanted to impress someone. Keith didn’t remember the exact definitions, but Shiro had bugged him before about only seeing things in a certain way because of his own opinions or knowledge he had. Whatever. If it meant that Keith was hyper-aware of Lance’s infrequent smiles, his _real_ smiles, well, then Keith had had worse. It would be hard, knowing Lance was suffering, but Keith was mature and he could respect the guy’s wishes.   
  
Unlike many other places, they didn’t have much in the way of weather, but the omnipresent Starbucks started offering Pumpkin Spice frappuccinos and girls began to break out scarves and the bizarre hoodie, short shorts, and knock-off Ugg boots fashion emerged to emotionally torment Keith once more. Were they cold? Hot? Do you wear socks in Ugg boots? Keith had to distract himself when he caught a couple of girls sending him weird looks (had he been staring for that long?). October gave Keith a much needed break from drama. Other than the incident in which Hunk Learned Not To Bake On The Common Room Hot Plate, most people were more concerned about the increasing substance to their respective classes. Keith kept his head down and concentrated, especially in his chemistry class. Hunk’s relationship advice proved sound; he and Lance didn’t get into any stupid fights and the coven spent the entirety of October in peace. In fact, the weekend before Halloween, when the coven planned to celebrate Samhain, Keith had high hopes for another enjoyable sabbat.   
  
He and Hunk had met up beforehand, to help carry all of Hunk’s feast over to Allura’s. The park was hosting some kind of trick-or-treat event and they didn’t want to worry about being disturbed by candy-crazed children, anxious adults, and trouble-seeking teens. On their way over, Hunk briefly touched on how Samhain was the third and final harvest festival for Wiccans and also functioned as their new year marker. It wasn’t the way Keith typically conceived of a new year. It wasn’t about starting something new so much as it was thinking over everything that had been sown and reaped, as well as planning for future ideas. Winter would be a time to rest before the earth came alive again in the spring, perfect for gathering strength and reflecting on how to live a better life. They both knew that Allura would spend some time discussing the major themes of Samhain once they’d all arrived, but Keith had been curious and Hunk more than willing to share.   
  
They arrived first, carting the food carefully inside. They left it sitting on the counters in Allura’s kitchen, not wanting to be distracted by the delicious odors during their ritual. Hunk had placed everything in odd-looking neon yellow containers that he claimed kept the food warm for later, but Keith had a sneaking suspicion that they were simply a gift from Shay. They were patterned with adorable drawings of cartoon ducks that resembled a purse he’d seen her with before. Keith was vindicated not ten minutes later when she came inside, smiling delightedly at Hunk using her birthday present. Keith rolled his eyes good-naturedly, deeming them hopeless as Hunk stuttered and blushed out his appreciation.   
  
Luckily, Allura finished getting ready and asked for their help setting up their ritual. Pidge appeared a scant few seconds later, hauling in a giant pumpkin that was almost larger than her. Shay rushed to help her, but Keith stood uselessly to the side, laughing at her wobbly steps under the weight of the gargantuan gourd. When Keith had joking asked if Pidge had bought the biggest one she could find, she gave an emphatic yes. Apparently, they had a tradition of a coven carved pumpkin and the bigger the pumpkin, the more room to carve. Keith could already imagine the arguments over what to carve exactly and quirked a smile. They all gathered around to assist in the decorating, Pidge and Hunk’s light banter only increasing Keith’s excitement. There was something in the air. Pidge described it as ‘liminal space’ and Shay called it the veil between human and spiritual realms being thin, but Keith wasn’t sure about either of those explanations. Even though Lance still hadn’t shown up yet, he was confident that Lance would materialize.   
  
Keith and Hunk brought in a large barrel nerve-wrackingly slowly, Allura watching them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t damage her floor. They set it carefully on a nest of towels and took off the top, adding in a basket of apples. Keith had never tried bobbing for apples and was delighted to get the chance. Shay brought out a large box and stack of paper. When Keith wandered over to examine it, she explained that the box held homemade crayons. She’d melted down old crayons that she collected from the pre-school that she volunteered at once a week and, for the kids, re-baked them in Halloween shapes. She’d enjoyed it so much that she wanted to share and Keith couldn’t deny that coloring with pumpkin and ghost shaped crayons seemed very appealing.   
  
Allura set up pictures of people Keith didn’t recognize, aligning the frames carefully on a small, low table. Both the man and woman bore strong resemblances to Allura herself and Keith knew they had to be her parents. Hunk added another picture, this time of an older couple. The woman winked at the camera with a knowing grin while the man had his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. An aura of happiness surrounded them, visible even through the photograph.   
  
“That’s Lance’s grandparents. He gave me the picture to set up on the altar because he knew he’d be running a little late tonight.”  
  
Keith nodded wordlessly, turning away to continue helping with altar set-up. He never knew what to say to people who were grieving a dead relative. When his own dad had died, Keith had _hated_ all of the awful platitudes and I’m sorrys people gave him. Keith sure as hell wasn’t going to make the same mistake with someone else.   
  
He placed the small nuts in a circle around the center of the altar, letting a small, paper mache pumpkin take center stage. Each section of the pumpkin was painted a different color. On the East side, Keith placed a mask that had been left out as part of the decor. It was simple, just an eye-covering mask, and had bright and sparkly feathers clumsily glued to the outer edges. Though the altar and table for ancestors were solemn and respectful, Keith could only watch with mounting glee how Pidge, Hunk, and Shay ran around tossing artfully torn cheesecloth over lamps and hanging puffy fake spiderwebs from corners. Someone had produced the skull of a small animal and Keith couldn’t tell if it was real or a highly detailed fake, even after close examination. All of the candles, even the altar ones, were conspicuously orange, black, and eggplant purple. When everything looked sufficiently witchy, Keith paused his incessant fidgeting with his lighter as he mustered the courage to ask Allura a favor.  
  
“Hey, I was, um. Wondering if maybe I could be part of the ritual, instead of just watching in the circle and then doing my own thing?”  
  
“I knew my tutelage would pay off! I’m clearly a better teacher than Pidge since, under me, Keith has stopped wanting to be a lone wolf and participate.”  
  
Allura tutted at Hunk’s proclamation, while Pidge punched him in the arm, but addressed Keith sincerely.  
  
“Unfortunately, no. Only initiated members of the coven are allowed to participate in the ritual itself.”  
  
“Yeah, but initiated just means people Allura likes.”  
  
“Pidge! It does not!”  
  
Even Allura struggled not to smile as she defended her honor with gusto. Everyone else had already dissolved into chuckles. Keith happened to be facing the doorway and saw Lance with his bag, rounding the corner carelessly. His smile grew as Hunk spoke, slapping Keith lightly on the shoulder. He’d meant it companionably, but Keith wasn’t paying attention and he stumbled a little.  
  
“You never know, man! Allura might let you sub in for west anyway though ‘cause Lance is so late!”  
  
The prepared smile on Lance’s face crumbled immediately as he registered Hunk’s words. Keith felt his own smile slide off, plummeting at the same rate his stomach did. Lance’s face twisted into something frightening; a combination of rage and despair. Keith wished, momentarily, that Lance’s face _wasn’t_ so powerfully expressive.  He couldn’t bear to see that hurt displayed so openly across Lance’s devastatingly beautiful features. No one else bore witness to him, but Shay saw Keith’s face fall in dismay and she replied quickly to Hunk’s jibe, nudging him hard in the shoulder.  
  
“Lance is not replaceable! He is the heart of this coven and you know it!”  
  
“More like the fart of this coven, am I right?”  
  
Pidge rejoined, unaware of the growing tension. She held up her hand for a high-five and Hunk returned it, albeit shamefacedly. He hadn’t meant any harm by the comment, even Keith knew that, but it still took Lance a second to recover. As soon as he did, though, he sauntered dramatically into the room, collapsing against Hunk in an overdone swoon. Keith’s gut clenched as he watched Lance’s fantastic acting skills put to work. Even Lance’s closest friends couldn’t see how brittle his bravado had worn as he opined about how Hunk was a traitor. When he paused to draw breath to continue his screeching rant, Lance threw a genuine smile Shay’s way, though she might have been too busy laughing at his antics to notice. Keith wondered if Lance planned it that way, if he’d seen how, in the midst of merriment, his friends were less likely to pry into his life or see his facade cracking. How much of Lance’s personality had ever been an outrageous goofball? Or merely a convenient excuse, invented by a man so desperate to maintain his friends happiness that he’d sacrifice his own? Keith prayed that he was overthinking it, as Shiro often accused him of doing.  
  
Keith’s concern must have been a little too obvious, though, because Lance shot him a look. Lance shrugged slightly, exhausted defeat visible in his eyes, even as he slumped over Hunk’s back, still ragging on him for the betrayal. It seemed like everyone was fooled, until Pidge piped up through her laughter.  
  
“Hey, hold on. This only happened because you weren’t here. Why are you so late?”  
  
Lance scoffed at the question, making some bullshit excuse about needing to make sure his pores weren’t showing or his hair lay perfectly. But Pidge was better at deciphering verbal lies and squinted shrewdly at Lance, her mouth opening in preparation for something more direct. Maybe even another lecture on just how sucky Lance’s approach to problem solving is. Keith didn’t want to take the chance that it would bring down the mood or reveal Lance’s insecurities.  
  
“Why are you so short?”  
  
Everyone fell silent for a moment before the laughter started up again in a near roar, Hunk slapping him heartily on the back and even Shay, kind, caring Shay, snickered at the abrupt switch in topic. Pidge rounded on Keith, her cheeks burning, but smiling playfully as she promptly _eviscerated_ him, pointing out every bad habit he’d ever displayed, no matter how stealthily. Keith bravely withstood all of the insults, (except for the one about scratching his ass because butts itch guys! You can’t just not scratch an itch, that’s crazy!), rolling his eyes good-naturedly at the impromptu Keith roast session. Just as he was about to put an end to it, though, he made eye contact again with Lance. Lance was giggling, his shoulders relaxed, and he looked so _relieved._ To Keith’s amazement, Lance winked at him.   
  
Finally, Allura managed to calm everyone down, reminding them of the impending ritual as well as the delicious feast awaiting them afterwards. Someone’s stomach rumbled at the mere mention.   
  
“Samhain is a holiday in celebration of endings and new beginnings. Our calendar ends on this night and tomorrow, a new year for us begins. For some people, the harvest has ended and now they can rest, inasmuch as humans can hibernate. Many cultures recognize a day of the dead around this time, so the veneration of ancestors is a popular topic. For example, I shall think on and remember my father and mother. For those who focus on the goddess,”  
  
She nodded at Shay,  
  
“It is now that the mother aspect becomes the crone. This is because the ripened earth, which had seeds sown in it, has now been fully harvested and the land is barren during the winter. In addition, the new year is a time to hear the advice of our honored elders, either those passed on or still with us, and apply their wisdom. Though not here, it is a time of leaves falling and colder temperatures. Samhain is known as a cross-quarter sabbat, which means that it falls halfway between an equinox and a solstice. Most of us know it as Halloween, a time of playing pranks and dressing up in scary or silly costumes. These are very old traditions that most believe are Christian incorporations of even older traditions. Pranks were carried out on fae-folk and on other humans with the convenient excuse known as ‘blaming the faeries’. The most popular of these jokes involved taking off door hinges, smearing things on doors, or messing up windows. Nothing permanent at all. To stop your neighbor, or an errant faerie, from doing such a thing, many folks would offer treats to bribe their would-be prankster. Hence the term ‘trick-or-treat’. Similarly, ancient brave villagers would dress up as ghosts or scary monsters and roam the perimeters of the village in an attempt to scare off any _real_ monsters that might be feeling playful because of the thin veil between our worlds on Halloween.”  
  
Keith juggled the contents of his pocket to get his phone out for note taking, readying himself for a long explanation, but Allura seemed to be done. She and the others stood in their traditional circle. Keith slinked over to his spot and sat down to watch. By now, Keith knew that they always closed the circle going clockwise through the directions and counterclockwise when opening the circle. Hunk began the invocation.   
  
“Let the earth be gentle to our mortal selves while the veil is sheer that we may be spared over another year.”  
  
Hunk lit the North candle and sprinkled some sand over the flame.   
  
“Let the air in the breath we draw be new and that we may also draw the peace of the sky in everything we do.”  
  
Pidge lit the East candle and an accompanying incense. She waved the incense stick in a circle, letting the smoke drift in a spiral.  
  
“Let the fire remain, the spark, the deepest joy, the impulse to please, as we reflect on harvests reaped, our labors’ lights be eased.”  
  
Shay lit the South candle and picked up the small bowl that had been on the altar. She waved it over the flame, neatly avoiding burning her fingers. Keith wondered if the bottom of the bowl had singe marks.  
  
“Let the water be our treasured libations as we raise a toasts, may our cups nor veins ever run dry when tonight we accept in our ghosts.”  
  
Lance lit the West candle and raised the goblet to his lips. He sniffed it, side-eyeing Shay and searching for anything shifty. He took a tiny, suspicious sip and relaxed. Keith stifled a giggle behind his hand. Allura took up the rest of the invocation.  
  
“We call upon our god for this night of magick and fun  
May you bear your club to defend us  
May your lusty stamina be fulfilled  
And may we honor you in turn, in these days of waning sun  
  
We call upon our goddess on this night of the living and the dead  
Time itself is your cauldron, the ingredients the universe and all who live within   
Summon us to wisdom through the dark that lies ahead,   
We are stirred by you Wild Crone.”  
  
Keith felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The atmosphere was different from the previous sabbats. Maybe he was becoming more attuned to the coven’s magick? Or maybe it was something to do with Samhain itself. He fidgeted where he sat, rubbing a thumb repeatedly over the backs of his fingers. Shay stepped out of her place and walked over to Allura, dipping her fingers into the bowl and then bringing her wet fingers up to Allura’s face. Shay held a small stone, though Keith wasn’t close enough to see what kind of rock, (assuming he could identify it). Shay flicked her hand and Allura closed her eyes, allowing a few droplets of water to land on her skin. One slipped down the slope of her nose to the corner of her mouth. Shay closed her eyes and hummed, clutching the stone tightly.  
  
“Lovely gem to wounded souls  
Find and fill the aching holes  
Set to right what grief has rent  
Further anguish in this year prevent.”  
  
Once Shay had moved on to repeat the motion with Lance, Allura quietly narrated.  
  
“This is a spell to heal the grief of the passing year.”  
  
Shay completed her spell, moving around the circle. To Keith’s surprise, she knelt in front of him and performed the spell. He wasn’t sure if the happiness he felt burgeoning in his gut was due to his inclusion in the ritual or because of Shay’s magick. He was able to see that there were three stones in Shay’s water bowl and she chose the amethyst for his spell. He couldn't wait to study with her and learn the significance of the stones used in spells or rituals. She gave him a small smile before returning to her seat within the perimeter of the circle. As she did so, Allura delicately cleared her throat.  
  
“Use this paper to write down something from last year you wish to conclude with finality and something you hope to meditate on and eventually begin this coming year.”  
  
Slips of paper were passed around, along with Shay’s homemade crayons. Keith found the juxtaposition of grinning pumpkin crayons and solemn statements of ends and beginnings to be somewhat jarring, but he could sort of understand the need for a bit of levity in a holiday revolving primarily around lost loved ones. Everyone scrawled some things on their papers and then closed their eyes in rapt contemplation. The quality and temperature of the air seemed to change, as if Keith really could feel just how thin the separation between the world he lived in and another was. An energy, not his own, settled heavily in his lungs.   
  
Keith used the opportunity to retrieve the small bag from where it had been patiently sitting inside his jacket pocket. He owned few things of more value. For this personal ritual, Keith had decided to keep things simple. He didn’t bother with anything other than the tiny orange candle Allura had handed him upon his arrival and the pouch of dirt he’d collected from his father’s grave. Although he visited the grave with Shiro occasionally, he had never been able to establish a tradition of going on the anniversary or anything while bouncing around foster families. The few times he’d been to the grave in recent memory were difficult and emotions ran high. Now though, surrounded by friends in a safe environment, Keith thought that maybe he could finally talk to his father without getting angry or depressed.   
  
_Hey Dad. It’s Keith. Not sure if you can hear me, but…I’d like to think you can. I’ve been training every day so I can be as strong and selfless as you were. I’m doing all right in my classes, except for chemistry. Uh, what else? Shiro is a lot better; he’s been seeing a therapist about his PTSD and he’s having fewer nightmares. And I made some friends. They’re not perfect either, and I’m not positive that I’m helping by being here, but I like them. I want to get to know them better. You always told me to believe in people, to give them a chance. I guess if they’re willing to take a chance on me, I can too._  
  
 _I haven’t forgotten about you. I think about you…a lot._  
  
 _I’m gonna see the stars, just like you always wanted to. Remember when you used to haul out the old telescope so we could see Venus or Mars in the sky or when you’d spend all day reading that Carl Sagan book? I’ll go there. I’ll make sure I treasure see the pale blue dot._  
  
Keith concentrated as hard as possible, thinking the words loudly in his mind. He clutched the bag of dirt tighter. He had no idea if his father’s spirit could hear him, if his father even _had_ a spirit, or one that was still around, or one that cared what Keith might have to finally say to him after so many years of silence and not visiting his grave and what kind of son doesn’t go visit their father’s grave? His heart sped up, fingernails biting into the meaty flesh of his palm. Just as he was about to give up on the entire thing, he felt a chill run down his spine. It was strangely comforting, like a broad hand rested there for a moment.   
  
_Proud of you, son._  
  
Keith gasped, tears springing to his eyes. He blinked rapidly, swiping them away. Surely that hadn’t been his dad? He must have just remembered a time when he’d heard those words and replicated his father’s voice. But if he had, well. Keith’s lips quirked. He hoped none of the others had seen him, but when he hastily glanced around they were only beginning to come out of their own meditations. Lance had a few tears still clinging to his long lashes. Pidge’s eyes were red-rimmed. Tear tracks stood out in the flickering candlelight against Allura’s otherwise flawless, ebony skin. She raised her chin proudly, no wobble evident in her voice.   
  
“We extinguish the light that has sustained us.”  
  
In near unison, everyone put out their directional candle. The only light came from the candles on the ancestor shrine. Allura reached out for the largest one in the center and carefully lifted it. She went around the circle, relighting each person’s candle as they offered it to her in supplication. As she did so, the others chanted:  
  
“Ancestors we ask for your wisdom to light our way,   
As we walk through you from old to new.  
We bid farewell to our troubles and joys, for it all must end the same  
With mystery shrouded in stories forgot in the dying of the flame.”  
  
When all of the candles were relit, each person withdrew their slip of paper and burned it, dropping each paper in another, larger bowl, and watching the paper blacken and curl in on itself, erasing the words upon it. They all watched the last tendrils of smoke curl out of the bowl on the altar in silence. Keith was glad that they opened the circle soon after because it was obvious that the somber atmosphere had taken its toll on the group. Hunk seemed confident that some food would improve the mood and took off almost as soon as Allura had finished thanking the spirits, the god, and goddess. Pidge started listing different ideas for what design to use for the pumpkin carving as she followed with Shay and Allura. Keith hung back and signaled for Lance to do the same. Lance watched him with a bemused expression. Suddenly, Keith felt weird and he crossed his arms uncomfortably.  
  
“I, uh. They didn’t mean that, before. I would never take your place. Hunk was just kidding around; he didn’t mean it seriously.”  
  
Lance broke eye contact, refusing to acknowledge Keith’s words for a second. His shoulders raised defensively, before relaxing with a profuse sigh. Finally, Lance nodded and shrugged again, mumbling.  
  
“Yeah, I know.”  
  
Keith wasn’t sure that Lance _did_ know and he geared up to prove his point, to shake Lance until he understood that his friends cared about him and didn’t want him gone. But before he had the chance to do anything, Lance spoke again, as he rocked back on his heels, hands jammed awkwardly into his oversized jacket’s pockets.   
  
“Look, uh, I get why you turned me down. Before. Hunk, he told me. And I’m sorry. About your dad.”  
  
Keith’s arms dropped to his sides in surprise. He blinked stupidly at Lance, too shocked at the genuine concern to say anything else. Lance tilted his face away, towards the rest of the group fighting over how to appropriately divvy up the pie fairly. Lance bit his lip.  
  
“I’m going through…a rough time right now. So, uh. Yeah.”  
  
And then, before the interaction could get more awkward, Lance pivoted on his heel and strode away quickly, griping that no one was leaving him any pie and hadn’t they ever heard of eating dinner before dessert?! Keith recovered after a moment, equally warmed by the conversation and the food he wrestled away from Pidge and shoveled into his empty stomach. In between bites of mashed potatoes and some kind of super-cheesy lasagna, Keith ambled over to the drawing station that Shay had set up earlier. He grabbed a red ghost crayon and began to draw a robot lion from a tv show he’d liked as a kid. Crayons, he soon discovered, were not good for precise lines. After messing around for a while, trying to get the shoulder joints of the lion and its cute, rounded ears just right, Pidge persuaded him to participate in an apple bobbing contest. To his surprise, Allura joined in immediately and totally kicked ass at apple bobbing. No one else was surprised though, so Keith assumed that it happened every year. Laughing happily and wiping off his face after his timed turn, Keith looked back over to see Lance lounging on the floor with an intent expression. His tongue poked adorably through pursed lips in his coloring concentration. Keith wanted to know what he was drawing, but simultaneously had no wish to disturb him. Instead, Keith helped himself to more pie and spiced cider.   
  
Later, after everyone managed to agree on Shay’s suggestion of a spooky cat design for their huge pumpkin, they gathered around to start taking turns scooping out the innards. Keith noticed the drawing that Lance had been working on with a start; it was _Keith's_ lion sketch. He studied it with forced nonchalance, not wanting to draw anyone else’s attention to the drawing. Lance was no artist, but the way he’d colored in the lion suggested that he’d seen the same show and knew what the robot ought to look like.   
  
“Heads up Mullet!”  
  
Keith’s head jerked up at the impact of cold slime. Disgusted, he put a hand up to peel some pumpkin bits off of his face. Lance grinned cheekily at him and took advantage of the group’s surprise to mash a whole handful into Pidge’s hair. She shrieked and swore vengeance, reaching in for her own ammo. Soon, it had devolved into an all out war of gourd guts. Allura was the first to come to her senses, hollering for everyone to stop and warning them that everyone needed to help with clean up. Lance hung his head bashfully at instigating the fight, but later, when he griped about trying to reach a piece high up on the wall with his flimsy washcloth, Keith could still see a spark of amusement in his eyes. Keith scrubbed harder at a spot on the floor, mopping up the orange seeds, as he hid a small smile. When he slid over to another pile of goop, he snagged the mostly colored in lion drawing and folded it carefully, slipping it into his jacket pocket. He didn’t care if it was weird, or beyond the boundaries of the friendship he was trying to cultivate with Lance; he wanted the picture.   
  
Actually carving the pumpkin was much less thrilling. Mostly, it consisted of someone holding it steady while Hunk’s deft hands sawed carefully through the scraped flesh. During the carving, everyone not involved assisted in packing up the remaining food and unsullied decorations. When it was finally finished, Shay brandished the gourd proudly, complimenting Hunk profusely for rendering her art so finely. Hunk blushed a deep crimson and thanked her for picking out such a great design, (fully knowing that she’d just Googled spooky cat and printed it out). Keith caught Allura’s fond exasperation and returned it threefold. Shay ended up taking the pumpkin home when they all finally finished tidying up and bid goodnight to each other, heading back to their respective domiciles.   
  
The following few weeks flew by. Keith had an increasingly difficult amount of homework to manage, along with his daily workouts at the campus gym. It was the only way he could relieve stress. Between classes, ever more study sessions as November drew to a close and students became more paranoid, and his own training, Keith had trouble balancing everything. He found himself trying to read a textbook on the treadmill at one point and, (after nearly falling off), decided that something had to give. He apologetically changed his schedule with Hunk to only meet once a week and was only able to attend two of the Saturday meetings. Even then, he wasn’t sure how much he got out of them; often he found his mind wandering over complicated chemical formulae he needed to memorize, or the minimum distance for a planet to be from a white dwarf sun and still be in the habitable zone.   
  
Before he knew it, Thanksgiving break was right around the corner. Though he’d still technically be Keith’s mentor for almost a whole week after the break, Hunk gave Keith his parting gift, a bag of black sacred sand before he left for Samoa. Keith wasn’t the only one getting busier with classes and he knew Hunk’s schedule was even more rigorous, as an engineering student. Keith knew he’d miss everyone during the break, but it wouldn’t be so bad to have some time for himself. He and Shiro had discussed whether Keith would come back for it, since they did get the whole week off, but Shiro had felt like coming up and visiting since Keith still didn’t have a roommate. He knew his good luck in that department couldn’t possibly last, but he still hoped. Keith had no idea why Shiro wanted to come to campus and sleep on an old twin in the same room as Keith, considering his claims of Keith’s unbearable sleep thrashing, but he was happy for the opportunity to see him. For the first time, in his life maybe, Keith had stories about his friends that he was excited to share with his pseudo-brother.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanksgiving break was a nice change. Sure, it meant that Keith didn’t get to see his friends for a week, but he finally got some much needed down time, kicking Shiro’s ass at Smash Bros and then teasing him about how his reaction time sucked because he’s old. Even though they texted and Skyped regularly, Keith hadn’t realized just how much he had _missed_ the man. Even when Shiro concentrated on the awesome swinging mechanics of Spider-Man and tried to not flop onto the pavement, (which didn’t matter, Keith kept reminding him, because the game didn’t have fall damage), while Keith snarked occasionally, it filled Keith with a rare sense of peace. He had homework over the break, of course he fucking did, but working on it with the sounds of Shiro cheering on his favorite superhero in the background kept a smile on Keith’s face. Shiro had questioned him heavily about his new friend group; their dynamics, who he liked, was he getting along with everyone okay? Keith was cautiously optimistic with his answers, hoping that the future proved him right.   
  
He was sorry to see Shiro go again, but knew he’d be going back to Shiro’s for Christmas break in a few weeks. He bid him goodbye and if Keith hugged Shiro for a little longer than usual, well, Shiro didn’t comment. As classes began again, Keith forced himself to start attending study sessions hosted by other students in his dorm and TAs. The end of November and beginning of December were always the worst. Everyone came back from Thanksgiving knowing only a few weeks stood between them and Christmas, but those few weeks consisted of feverish reviews and panicking over finals. Hunk was only able to meet up with him once and even that was only an hour, just a few parting comments before he turned Keith over to Shay. But then he made his excuses and went off to study cogs and gears, or whatever shit engineers need to know.   
  
That Saturday, the whole group’s exhaustion already weighed heavily on them. The ritual was lackluster and spent an inordinate amount of time in meditation. Keith was sure he heard the unmistakeable snort of someone waking up with a start, midway through, but couldn’t determine who made the sound. Pidge’s head drooped towards her chest and Shay couldn’t stop yawning anxiously. Afterwards, the group sluggishly dragged their feet, unwilling to do much other than laying on Allura’s floor, staring morosely at the ceiling. Pidge had to leave immediately to host a study session of her own for an advanced code theory class. Keith didn’t even understand what code theory was, but he wished her luck. Keith was just contemplating the merits of sitting up when he felt a presence next to him. He rolled over and opened one eye. To his shock, Lance stood there, awkwardly brandishing a Capri-Sun. Keith coughed lightly and sat up, hesitantly accepting the drink pouch. As he fiddled with the straw, Lance made himself comfortable on the ground next to him.   
  
“Figured I could replace the one I, uh, made you spill before.”  
  
The entire interaction baffled him, but Keith made the executive decision to play along.  
  
“Yeah. I mean, thanks.”  
  
Keith could lie to everyone else, but he couldn’t lie to himself: he _desperately_ wanted to encourage whatever was making Lance talk to him like a real person. Like they could be friends. Anything Keith could do to keep it going, he would do. Did that mean Keith had a little bit of a crush on Lance? Maybe, but it was irrelevant. He’d eagerly respond to any scenario where he could spend more time with Lance; get to know him better. Shit, the conversation, (if it could even be called that), had lulled. Keith struggled to find something to say.  
  
“Sorry. Again. For everything. Um, not remembering your name and bringing up old stuff. And I’m not trying to take your place. Not that anyone here wants me to!”  
  
Keith blushed and lowered his voice, not keen on the entire group eavesdropping on their conversation. He mentally berated himself. That was the best he could do? More apologies? Why couldn’t he ask about Lance’s favorite tv show?  
  
“I know, man.”  
  
Lance sighed. Keith wasn’t sure whether Lance had brushed him off because he didn’t believe Keith or not, but Keith decided that he’d take Lance at his word. Maybe Lance didn’t think they needed to talk about it because it was in the past and he’d accepted Keith’s apology.  
  
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like everything is all your fault, dude. My world doesn’t revolve around Keith Kogane, you know.”  
  
Keith looked up in horror, ready to apologize _again_ for making assumptions, or trying to turn the problem around so that Lance was at fault and Keith was the victim. Lance was smiling. Keith’s mouth closed with a snap. Lance was _smiling. At him._ He was…he was teasing. Teasing Keith, without malice or passive aggression. Keith grinned back, eyes full of awe and happiness. Lance rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting away.  
  
“There’s other things going on that’re giving me a hard time. You know, outside of you and the coven. I don’t know how much Hunk told you…?”  
  
He trailed off questioningly. He glanced over at Hunk before quickly looking back at Keith, gnawing his bottom lip. Keith tried in vain to not focus on that lip or its taste. The rest of the group were finally making their way over to their things and leaving Allura’s. There wasn’t much time before someone would interrupt, probably Allura politely ushering them out so she could study. He cleared his throat and leaned forward a bit more, lowering his voice to a near whisper, regretting how little time they had. But maybe Lance had chosen it on purpose to avoid a long conversation with Keith? Keith was definitely of doing that in social situations before.  
  
“Not much. No specifics. He wanted to respect your privacy.”  
  
Lance nodded, scrunching his face up in thought. Then his expression darkened.  
  
“Well, despite what Pidge might think, I am working through stuff. In my _own_ way.”  
  
Keith understood the frustration and gave Lance an encouraging smile. Just as he predicted, they were shooed away a minute later by an apologetic Allura. Lance also needed to get to a study session, so he didn’t give Keith the opportunity to ask him to spend more time together. Keith respected that, but he still was a little hurt by Lance’s nervous avoidance. He remembered Hunk’s advice, to give Lance time, and breathed through the hurt. Besides, he had other, more pressing matters. For one thing, figuring out a good schedule with Shay for their meetings. They decide on mid-afternoon Tuesday. Keith knocked on her door with some trepidation, frowning at the girls a couple of doors down the hall who were pointing at him and whispering obnoxiously amongst themselves. Didn’t they have finals to be stressed out over? What the hell were they whispering? Before he had a chance to get worked up and stomp over to the gaggle of giggling girls, Shay’s door swung open and she invited him inside.   
  
He hadn’t expected her room to be so…cluttered. Everything about Shay as a person suggested a tidy living environment, but the more closely he inspected the room, the more he saw evidence to the contrary. A pair of yoga pants draped over the side of a trashcan, the standing lamp’s shade was askew, a pillow lay on the floor, and its case lay off to the side, balled up in a cobwebbed corner. His third step into the room crunched unexpectedly and he leaned down to pick up a small bag of crushed goldfish. Shay snatched the bag from his hands, a chagrined look on her face.  
  
“Please excuse…this. We have not had much time for cleaning lately.”  
  
Keith wasn’t one to judge and he told her as much. She smiled and disposed of the goldfish, hauling a trunk around the side of a bed, (probably her bed), so that Keith could see it better. Once in his line of sight, he could see that it was an altar. He made himself comfortable on the stray pillow, pulling out his phone to take notes. Then, he remembered that Shay had said we. Right. A roommate. He glanced at the door inquisitively.   
  
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about us being interrupted. My roommate, Lena, will be in the library for most of the day. I apologize that I am teaching you during such a stressful time. It is likely that we will only be able to meet once a week because of our finals. However, my specialties mostly center on repetition and contemplation. That does not mean that they are easier, or less complicated, than other types of magick, but that much of it is gained by practicing and does not require a lot of teaching or the intervention of a mentor. In short, I use crystals most often. I can show you the most common stones and their uses, but it is an ongoing study and there are plenty of books detailing magickal alignment and species of crystal.   
  
I also plan to show you my rune stones and how I use them for divination, similar to Pidge’s tarot deck or Lance’s throwing bones. As Pidge likely explained, the cards, or stones, rely on your magickal energies, so it behooves you to hold onto them. The longer you use one specific stone, the faster and more effective the response is. Stone is a receptacle, like a cup. You can store excess energy or emotion in the stone to be accessed later if you are feeling low or for a specific spell. Novices can often feel drained when storing energy, so it might be best to save that technique for after finals.”  
  
Keith chuckled humorlessly.   
  
“So, besides in rituals, what else do you use crystals for?”  
  
“I use them for protection and to bolster my own energies. You could think of them like batteries, or a storage container. For example, burying a stone beneath a full moon and letting it soak up the earth’s power would then allow you to access that power in a later spell. Alternatively, you can imbue rock with your magick and place it in a spot to dispel negative energy that might flow through or to relax others near the stone. It is not uncommon to keep small stones on windowsills near doors to keep away bad thoughts, or to take one in your pocket to a test for help in focusing and calming. Usually an amethyst helps with concentration so I would recommend that. I have some books that I can loan you about properties and associations of gemstones.”  
  
“Yeah, that would be good. Thanks.”  
  
She laughed kindly.  
  
“You can feel free to read through them at your leisure, when you are not so inundated with other information. Another specialty of mine is communicating with my ancestors. That can be draining, emotionally and physically, so I can use the crystals to restore my energy levels afterwards. Alternatively, it can be overwhelming, depending on who I speak to and the topic we speak about, and I can let out some of the excess emotion to help me calm down.”  
  
Keith nodded, thinking that, based on his experience during Samhain, he understood the overwhelming part much better. It might be nice to learn to store excess in something convenient; might help him not let everything pile up inside of him. He gestured at Shay’s small altar, wanting to investigate its contents. She smiled, pointing to each item as she spoke.   
  
“For reference, and as I have stated before among the group, I am not dedicated to a particular named deity. Instead, I worship the earth itself, as my mother and my father. I came from the earth and, when I die, I will return to the earth. It is my progenitor, my home, and my final resting place. Because of that, I try to only use natural, or organic, items for my altar. I am a TA so I have some extra income to spend on beeswax candles and this stone chalice. But, that is a personal choice, not a requirement!”  
  
Keith nodded, digesting the information.   
  
“To represent the earth, I keep this statue of the goddess on my altar. At my home, I burn incense, but here, because of smoke alarms and Lena’s allergies, I don’t burn any here. I have some sitting here, but they are symbolic only. I have many crystals on my altar and in other places, as well as my rune stones. These are photographs of my grandparents and great-grandparents, as well as a painting of my great-great-grandmother.”  
  
Keith raised his hand and promptly yanked it back down to his lap, blushing furiously.  
  
“Do you have a question, Keith?”  
  
Shay smirked at him playfully. Keith had been spending too much time in a classroom. Damn. He needed to get out more. Keith muttered at the floor.  
  
“That goddess statue looks really cool. Did you get it on Etsy or something?”  
  
“Actually I made it. I have always enjoyed ceramics as a diversion when I am restless. In fact, I also keep a knife that I use with my potters wheel for ceremonial use and a ball of clay on my altar to remind me of the infinite potential in the earth and for all creatures living upon it. This ball of clay, in my hands, would become something very different from, say, in your hands.”  
  
Keith appreciated her optimistic view of the world. If more people embraced differences and the innate happiness of being alive, the way Shay seemed to, maybe humans would be better off. Keith made a note to try and be more present, to stop and smell the flowers, so to speak. His embarrassment faded as she waxed philosophical, but Keith couldn’t help but also notice a clay pentacle prominently displayed, front and center. A very _familiar_ pentacle.  
  
“I can’t help but notice how the whole altar revolves around that pentacle, in the middle there. Did a special someone make it for you?”  
  
Keith smirked good-naturedly at her and Shay beamed.  
  
“Ah, you must have seen Hunk work on it? He gave it to me for Samhain. I had hoped that he might take advantage of the new year, new beginnings feeling to ask me on a date, but it is not time yet.”  
  
Keith raised his eyebrows, not ready for Shay to be so forthcoming on the topic.  
  
“What do you mean ‘not time’?”  
  
“Just what I said. He and I have danced around each other for over a year now. We met in one of our core freshman classes and have spent much time together. I have made my feelings clear to him; that I would greatly enjoy dating him. He has not asked me yet, so I will wait until either our feelings change or he is ready.”  
  
Keith whistled.  
  
“Damn. I envy your patience. How can you just wait so patiently? I don’t know if I could peacefully accept that someone was, I dunno, working through issues, and wait for them to come to me or something.”  
  
Keith bit down on a huff, running a hand through his hair distractedly. Shay’s expression settled on one of gentle amusement.  
  
“I am not sure we are still discussing Hunk and me now. This sounds more like a description of the situation with you and Lance.”  
  
Keith blinked at her for a second, unable to prevent a flush from rising on his cheeks. He refused to answer, so Shay continued after an expectant moment.  
  
“You have impressed me, Keith. Your ability to read other people’s emotions is admirable.”  
  
The blush faded from Keith’s face as it twisted in incredulity.  
  
“Me? What are you _talking_ about? I’m terrible at responding to social cues and, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but lots of times when Pidge or Lance makes a joke, I miss it.”  
  
“I did not comment on your ability to respond. Only how you pick up on the auras of those around you and how you see through to our inner selves. Unfortunately, that does not guarantee knowing what is appropriate to say in return.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow when he opened his mouth to dismiss her observations and continued speaking.  
  
“Whether you believe me is your choice. But, in the mean time, should we not make the most of our time and study the use of crystals in rituals?”  
  
Keith accepted the change of subject with a slight incline of his head. Shay turned to her altar and grabbed a handful of stones, checking them carefully. Finally, she offered one to Keith. Surprisingly, it was a species he recognized, the same one she used on him during Mabon: Tiger’s Eye. He rolled the smooth stone around his fingers, enjoying the cold sensation against his skin.   
  
“You may use this stone during our mentoring. It can become an expensive endeavor to collect the specific rocks needed for different ceremonies or spells, but any rock can be imbued with your personal energy for more simple rituals. Or overwhelming emotions, if need be.”  
  
Keith spent another few hours with Shay, practicing the concentration involved in visualizing his own energy as a moving channel, like the blood in his veins, and then directing that energy towards his hand and the rock it held. For some reason, his mind conjured up red tinted, glowing energy lines, probably because he was thinking about blood. He tried to see the red pooling in his clenched fist, tried to feel the warmth of his life force inside the stone itself. He wasn’t sure that he succeeded, but Shay reassured him that it simply took practice. He managed to devote a few hours that Saturday to practicing storing energy, (namely, the restlessness that came with the all-consuming anxiety towards his fast approaching finals), in his Tiger's Eye, since the coven had unanimously decided to cancel their weekly ritual in favor of cram sessions. He didn’t feel any less anxious though. Monday, early afternoon, he was able to meet up with Shay for an hour, fitting it in between her morning physics final and Keith’s afternoon literature study session.   
  
He’d expected them to keep working on focusing their energy into their crystals, or to talk more about which crystals should be used in certain spells. However, much to his consternation, Shay decided to do neither of those. Instead, she led him outside, beaming at the weakened sunlight of winter. They settled in a small courtyard, sitting on the thankfully dry grass.   
  
“We are both stressed, Keith. Why should we not spend what time we have channeling our energy not to our small stones, which likely cannot hold all of this anxiety, but to the very earth cradling us in her arms?”  
  
Keith cocked his head, confused. Shay sighed and laid down on the ground, closing her eyes against the sun’s glare.   
  
“Think of it as an exercise in letting our stones and our selves soak up the energies of nature.”  
  
Keith pursed his lips doubtfully and side-eyed some small succulents. A tiny area of patchy grass surrounded by sad shrubbery and intimidating cacti was not exactly his idea of nature’s grand design. But, it did reflect the Southwestern desert they currently resided in and beggars can’t be choosers. Despite his trepidation, an hour in the sun did him some tangible good; he was relaxed and alert for his study session. Keith even managed to study for the rest of the day without overwhelming levels of anxiety forcing his eyes to skip paragraphs and concepts, unhelpfully advising him to just give up and go home already.  
  
Shay had promised to take Keith shopping Wednesday afternoon for some bits and bobs to decorate his own altar. She’d felt that he was ready to begin working on one, especially since he liked to have objects to focus on. She’d thought that they could find a few things at a crafting store for Keith to bring home over Winter Break to use in his Yule celebration. Shay had winked at Keith, also suggesting that they might do a little present shopping for the other coven members. That had been something of a cruel shock. He’d promptly begun to panic: did everyone always buy each other presents? Was he expected to find something for every single person? Was there any kind of gift pricing limit involved? Shay had laughed at his sudden nerves. No, they didn’t all always buy presents for each other; Yule wasn’t like Christmas or Chanukah. There wasn’t any kind of expectation, so Keith could calm down. _If_ he happened to see something that he wanted to get for someone, he was welcome to do so, but no one would be offended if he didn’t. Just as Keith managed to slow his racing heart, Shay giggled at a sudden idea that they might all gets gifts for Keith without telling him beforehand. He glared meaningfully and crossed his arms.   
  
Unfortunately, by the time Wednesday rolled around, Shay was an hour deep in a last-minute rescheduled final. Keith sent vicious thoughts to her professor, unable to fathom his own reaction if one of his professors had pulled that kind of shit on him. Keith figured, with a dark look, that he’d most likely punch whoever was responsible. Either way, he’d imagined that Shay bailing, no matter how unintentional, meant that the shopping trip was called off. To his surprise, a text from an unknown number popped up about 40 minutes after Shay’s text, letting Keith know that the sender would knock on his door in 15 and they’d go ahead to Michael’s. Keith frowned, turning the phone over in his hands thoughtfully. He had Hunk, Pidge, and Shay’s numbers stored in his contacts already. Was it possible that Allura had volunteered to take Keith shopping in Shay’s stead? It was weird that Shay hadn’t mentioned anything about that in her text, though.   
  
Anticipating Allura’s punctuality, (and probably her desire to not be seen with a trash goblin), Keith hurriedly threw on some clean clothes, (well, they passed the smell test, only somewhat dubiously), and made his hair look presentable, (…on a good day, there wasn’t much he could do with his hair, other than brushing it and hoping for the best). Just to be safe, he spritzed on some cologne that Shiro had bought him as a joke for his birthday. Keith coughed at the smell and immediately went to open his window, trying to waft the offensively frat-boy odor outside. A few girls and a llama below, who happened to glance upwards at that very moment, got a full view of Keith’s bare chest, half-leaning out the window, frantically fanning his armpits. The onlookers were not unimpressed.  
  
A couple of loud knocks sounded and Keith pulled his shirt back on, arranging the neckline that he’d inadvertently stretched out in his hurry to wave the smell away. He smoothed his hair once more and yanked the door open, an apology on his tongue. Having prepared himself to come face to face with an impatient, but well-mannered Allura, he wasn’t ready to deal with the reality of Weekday Lance. Weekday Lance and Saturday Lance were two different animals altogether. Saturday Lance, as Keith found out, was very casual, often bumming around in basketball shorts or jeans, his shirt obscured by the oversized olive jacket he adored. Weekday Lance, however, had _style._ Keith tried to assess the situation in a calm, rational manner, in spite of his poor, gay heart. Keith: hair mussed, smelling like bad cologne, possibly with his shirt inside out. Lance: dark blue partial turtleneck, tailored, fashionably high-waisted beige pants, and a fitted brown bomber jacket. The winter weather in the American southwest didn’t _quite_ warrant the layered outfit Lance sported, but Keith fervently praised whatever deity persuaded Lance to wear it anyway. It looked good on him.  
  
“Uh, thanks?”  
  
Oh. He’d said that. Right. He could do this, they were going shopping. That’s it. Keith could handle that, easy. No problem. He repeated the mantra, (not aloud), as they headed down to Lance’s car, an old, beat up blue thing that Lance lovingly patted before climbing into the driver’s seat. They didn’t talk much on the way to Michael’s, the closest craft store to campus. Lance seemed content to pump up the volume of his music. It wasn’t anything Keith recognized, most of the songs definitely weren’t in English, but the music was pleasant enough to have Keith bobbing his head in time with it. They’d just pulled into the parking lot, Keith leaning over to undo his seatbelt, when he noticed that Lance wasn’t moving. He paused, expectantly.  
  
“So, uh, we’re here to get you some stuff for your first altar. You’ve seen a few already so you know the basics: incense and candles. Something for the center, usually with a pentagram. From there, everyone gets creative. Usually, people have one small thing to represent each element, a stone for earth, bowl of water for water…you get the picture. Other than that, just whatever catches your eye. There’s tons of stuff you can use as decorations for sabbats, but right now, you should probably concentrate on essentials.”  
  
“Yeah, alright.”  
  
“Okay, well, we can go look around. I can give you some ideas for celebrating Yule too, since I guess it’ll be the first sabbat you’re not with the coven for.”  
  
Keith nodded, following Lance through the parking lot. Lance strode into the store confidently, greeting the cashiers by name with a jaunty wave. Keith wasn’t exactly shocked that Lance knew exactly where he was going, weaving through aisles like he’d been there a thousand times. He probably had. To Keith’s relief, Lance led them first to the Bargain Aisles, gesturing Keith over to the shelves with a wide, dramatic sweep of his hand, bowing ridiculously and forcing a bark of laughter out of Keith. Lance jerked up straight in surprise and Keith colored, a little embarrassed. Maybe Lance had forgotten exactly who he was out and about with, only to be reminded by Keith’s weird laugh. It was raspy, almost hoarse, and he’d been self-conscious of it for years. Lance shook off the moment quickly enough though, giving Keith a half smile, and he didn’t seem bothered by the harsh noise.   
  
They strolled around the store for a while. Keith picked out some simple, lavender incense, a wooden stand for the incense to collect the ashy droppings, a multi-colored candle variety pack, and a new lighter. He wrinkled his nose at the long handle, more accustomed to a smaller, rectangular lighter, but Lance reassured him that this was a proper ‘non-smoker’s lighter’. Keith shrugged and gently added it to his basket. He also saw a small knife, down the paint aisle. Technically, he supposed, it was a palette knife, but Keith was no painter and the handle was a dark reddish wood with a silvery inlay. He thought it looked cool and sharp enough for magickal purposes, so he grabbed it too. Just as they were on their way for Keith to pay, they passed a decorative aisle and Keith made the mistake of glancing up to the top shelf. There. Standing lonely and proud, mouth open in a delicate roar, was a red glass rendition of a lioness. Some long-forgotten shopper’s instinct, or masochistic tendency, made him stop, reach up, and carefully lift the lion down to eye level.   
  
The closer he inspected it, the more perfect it seemed. The light of the store’s fluorescents glinted in intriguing ways, highlighting the fine details of the lion’s fangs and gleaming eyes as it rested, the exact size for Keith to hold with one hand comfortable. Dreading what he’d see, Keith turned it over and peered at the price. He sighed. Over 60 bucks for a glass lion? What the hell kind of fancy-ass business were they running here? Reluctantly, Keith replaced the lion on the shelf, holding its gaze for as long as possible, before turning back to Lance mournfully. A sudden thought struck him. Was he being selfish? The lioness wasn’t destined to live as a knick-knack in his dorm; it was a symbol of his _religion._ He chewed his lip in thought. Maybe he ought to be willing to shell out for altar items. It was for gods and spirits, not for him, after all. Lance must have understood the conflicting emotions playing out across Keith’s face because Lance huffed a breath and put both hands on Keith’s shoulders, steadying him.  
  
“Look man, I know you’re new to the whole culture of witches, so I’m gonna clue you in on something important. You said you’ve done research on Wicca, which is super awesome, don’t get me wrong, but it also means you’ve probably seen at least some of the witchblr movement right? Please tell me you know what Tumblr is.”  
  
Keith sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Then he realized he’d picked up that habit from Shiro and hastily dropped his hand.   
  
“Yes, Lance.”  
  
“Okay, good. Glad you don’t totally live under a rock. I wasn’t sure when I started playing Take A Chance On Me in the car and you had never even _heard_ of ABBA. I mean, who lives like that?!”  
  
“Get to the point.”  
  
Keith gritted out, dragging Lance down the yarn aisle. He really didn’t need Lance making a scene in the craft store. He’d seen musicals. Someone starts being loud and overdramatic over something of little consequence and suddenly randos jump out and everyone joins in a drawn out scene about teamwork bullshit or the importance of friendship. His eyes darted around nervously, checking for any eavesdroppers. Lance continued on, unbothered by Keith’s sudden and incomprehensible display of paranoia in the middle of Michael’s, chocking it up to simple eccentricity.   
  
“Fine, fine. Anyway, you’ve seen the blogs of the beautiful women posing in unrealistic fields with flower crowns, the photoshopped breeze gently waving their hair, and the imposing, grand altars decorated with rare stones and an assortment of pewter chalices. The posts of someone’s indoor garden or an elaborate craft or a faded photo of homemade bread, talking about getting back to nature and implying that they dedicated many hours to being ‘witchy’. Those are nice to look at for inspiration, but not if you think that’s the _expectation._ Lots of those people have a ton of disposable income, for one thing, and a bunch of time on their hands. Which is totally cool and I’m not shaming that. But, just so you know, Wicca, any kind of religion, is symbolic and revolves around intent. If you have the cash for a super sweet altar, furnished with tons of sweet crap you bought on Etsy or spent days making yourself, that’s awesome. But, like, minimalistic altars are also cool. Sometimes the best things for spells, or just helping you focus, or what you like, are stupid shit that has sentimental value and came from the dollar store or you found on the side of the road.”  
  
“Damn, Lance. That’s deep.”  
  
Lance gave him a withering look, but Keith smiled back at him playfully.   
  
“Tch, see if I ever give you some Yoda status advice again. Ungrateful pleb.”  
  
The rest of the trip was spent trading comfortable jibes. Keith complained good-naturedly about how he’d have to check a bag when he went home if he wanted to bring home the little knife and lighter he’d purchased. Lance replied, only half joking, that TSA might _still_ confiscate the bag and Keith crossed his fingers, knowing that it was way more likely for Shiro to try and confiscate the knife. He’d never understood Keith’s love for nice knives and worried that he’d injure himself with his awesome flips and tricks. Lance managed to forcibly extract a promise from Keith that he’d watch the movie Mamma Mia over Winter Break so that he could ‘properly appreciate the true artistic genius of ABBA’. Keith didn’t understand the appeal, but the band seemed innocuous and he didn’t mind wasting a few hours of his life on the movie if it meant that he could also inflict it on Shiro. He only put up a fight for posterity.   
  
In fact, the movie provided a good respite during a stupid fight he’d managed to pick with Shiro, (or maybe it was the other way around), only two days into break. Funnily enough, the conversation had started with Keith expounding on how well things were going at school. Shiro listened delightedly as Keith related amusing anecdotes about the coven and trying to learn spells. He sighed in envy when Keith described long hours spent in meditation, though he knew it was the bane of Keith’s existence. And he was ecstatic when Keith told him that, even though he’d been worried, he’d still managed to pull through with a B- in the first semester of chemistry. They traded enthusiastic stories about the period spent apart and everything was fine, seemingly until Keith mentioned his father.   
  
“It was pretty nice, actually. While we celebrated Samhain, uh, Halloween, together, it was like I could _hear_ Dad again. I think he’d be proud of me. I’m pursuing his dream and doing well. Piloting classes next summer might be a challenge, but I’m not worried.”  
  
He smiled up at Shiro. To his consternation, Shiro was frowning slightly. He replied hesitantly.  
  
“I don’t doubt that your father would be very proud of you. But, Keith, you’re older now. I know you’ve always talked about going to space, like your dad wanted to, but are you sure that’s what _you_ want to do? Maybe you should think more about other opportunities. College is a time to explore things you’d never even heard of, let alone dreamed of pursuing. I just think it might not be a good idea to pigeon hole yourself so early on. It’s still sophomore year.”  
  
Keith’s frown mirrored Shiro’s.   
  
“What are _you_ talking about? I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut! My dad spent his whole life dreaming of getting to see the Earth from space. I’m closer now than I’ve ever been! How could you think I would just give up on that dream?”  
  
Shiro sighed fretfully.  
  
“No! I’m not accusing of giving up on anything. I’m suggesting that you keep your options open.”  
  
“I don’t need to keep my options open, Shiro. This is what Dad wanted me to do.”  
  
“When you were twelve years old!”  
  
“So that’s what I’m going to do!”  
  
Shiro ran a hand through the tuft of hair on his forehead in frustration. Keith remained stubborn, crossing his arms defensively over his chest, glaring.  
  
“Wouldn’t your dad want you to be happy? Doing something that _you_ love? You’re living your own life. You don’t have to be responsible for his wish fulfillment!”  
  
“Well, he’s dead. So he can’t exactly live his own life, now can he?!”  
  
Keith roared, startling Shiro into taking a step back. They stared each other down in tense silence. Keith was ready to pack it up and call it a night. Retreat to his room and try to put the conversation out of his mind. But, before he could do so, Shiro deflated with a sigh. He stiltedly gestured towards the couch and offered to make some popcorn as a peace offering, asking Keith to choose a movie for them. The first 20 minutes of Mamma Mia was awkward, the residual fight not having dissipated yet, but it was hard to stay angry in the face of such peppy music and a ridiculous story line. Despite the rough start, Keith thought the movie was fine, decently entertaining, (though he didn’t think it was _the best_ like Lance), and Shiro ended up really getting into it. It turned out that Shiro already knew a bunch of ABBA songs and playfully subjected Keith to his renditions of many of them over the coming days. The divide betwixt them from the argument wasn’t gone, but they both did their damndest to ignore it. Shiro because, no matter how much Keith might need one, he’d promised a then much-younger Keith that Shiro would never replace his father, and would never try to. He knew Keith had never let him down before, knew that Keith would have to go out into the world and make his own mistakes, (God knows he was always good at that), but Shiro had often found himself falling down the slippery slope of trying to parent Keith. Nothing good ever came of that in the past; he didn’t know how he could have expected anything different.   
  
Keith, on the other hand, waffled back and forth between anger, (and sadness, if he was being honest), at Shiro for not understanding how _important_ going to space was, not just for Keith’s father, but the entire father-son relationship and who Keith had become as a person, and utter terror at the underlying possibility of truth to Shiro’s words. For the past seven years, Keith had endured so much uncertainty in his life, shuffled around foster homes like a hot, unwanted potato, starting at new schools knowing he’d only be there for a few months at most. The one thing that he had, really owned and could hold onto no matter where he ended up, was space. Keith would become an astronaut and go to space. That mantra had been the impetus to do well in school when no one else had believed in him, the motivation to get up in the morning and _try._ Shiro thought Keith could give that up? On the other hand, what if Shiro was right? If there was something else, something Keith could love as a profession that he was ignoring altogether? It felt wrong to think so, made Keith feel guilty and somewhat resentful.   
  
He decided to focus on those feelings during his Yule ritual. What better time to settle in for some serious reflection and introspection? Shay had explained that Yule, the longest night of the year, was typically a time to consider past actions and hope for new light in the coming spring. He felt uncomfortable doing anything too complicated, both because it was his first real ritual and that he celebrated alone. He’d brought along his recently purchased supplies and set up a simple altar, checking the directions to set the candles up in, and making sure nothing would drip or spill. Keith debated on the merits of incense, but finally decided that it wasn’t a good idea; even if he opened his window and managed to avoid the smoke detector, his bedroom would be smoky all night and it’d be hard to sleep. He did take one of Lance’s suggestions though: using divination.  
  
Keith didn’t own rune stones, or a tarot deck, but he could make a pendulum out of some string and the Tiger’s Eye from Shay. He hoped that she was correct that the stone had become accustomed to his magick and would respond in the new situation. Biting his lip, Keith meticulously called on the spirits, double-checking the wording he’d written down on a piece of paper in his hand. A distant part of him was amused to see just how nervous Keith was about the entire thing. He cleared his throat. The sound seemed too loud for the room and the energy, so he whispered the incantation as he walked in a circle.  
  
“Spirits of the northern earth, let me forge my own rebirth. Spirits of the eastern air, let me be mindful and breathe with care. Spirits of the southern fire, let me live out my heart’s desire. Spirits of the waters west, let me lay my soul to rest.”  
  
Calling the corners did wonders for his anxiety and he paused, motionless, to let the calming flow of his words wrap protectively around him.   
  
“Lord of the absent sun, my bones grow cold, patiently awaiting your return. Lady of the reigning moon, our hearts keep us warm under your pale light.”  
  
He sat down in the middle of the circle and crossed his legs, settling in for some meditation and real consideration of Shiro’s concerns. Somehow, the knowledge that beings greater than he were watching over his thoughts made them come easier, made it less scary to consider alternatives to his current path. He pictured his father, and the expected pang of loss and grief _hurt,_ but soon was soothed by a few deep, even breaths. His father, talking about space, looking up at the stars, pointing out the constellations in the clear night sky to Keith, first to the naked eye, then through a telescope. Laughing together over the mythologies different peoples made up to explain them. Keith pictured himself strapped into a rocket, excitedly counting down until he’d be weightless, be free, be up among the constellations himself. Was that what his dad wanted? Was it what Shiro wanted? Was it what he wanted?  
  
It felt like yes, but the yes was more hesitant than before. Somewhere along the line, Keith had started second-guessing his decision. He yearned to be free, but maybe freedom lay somewhere else? But, if not the outer reaches of the known universe, then where? Keith huffed, fidgeting and startling himself out of the meditative pose. He swallowed quickly and picked up the pendulum, concentrating hard. Where did his heart lie? He opened his hand enough to let the stone swing freely. After swinging wildly, it began to pull in one direction. Keith excitedly glanced over, thrilled that the divination seemed to be working, but his happiness fell away. His eyes were drawn to a photograph on his bureau and he frowned, triple-checking the exact direction the pendulum was swinging towards. It…definitely seemed to be the photograph. Keith’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. It wasn’t a bad picture, but it wasn’t the meaningful sign that would spark an epiphany either. His father must have taken it, many years prior. Keith was sitting on the floor somewhere, maybe their living room, (Keith had inherited the house from his father after his death and it sat waiting, in the middle of nowhere Texas, for whenever Keith might need it), smiling in elation as he devoured one of a stack of comic books strewn about the floor around him. What could the picture _mean?_ Was it a fluke, a signal that he’d performed the divination incorrectly or that his magick wasn’t strong enough?   
  
He hastily opened the circle, making sure to stay respectful as he thanked the spirits for watching over him and not seem ungrateful for their guidance. Once done, he walked over to the photograph, taking it with him to his bed. He poured over the picture, extracting it from the frame to make sure there wasn’t a secret message written on the back; some movie-worthy phrase that would suddenly shed light on his father’s wishes for his son. Nope. Not even so much as a date. Keith squinted and was _just_ able to make out the comics he’d been reading with such joy. Voltron, the comic about flying robot lions. Present Keith quirked a smile at his past self. It still didn’t help him figure anything out, but it reassured him that some things never change.  
  
When Christmas itself actually rolled around, Keith was tired of spending days walking on eggshells around Shiro. Now that Keith was at college, they hardly got to spend any time together in person and here they were, wasting precious days in simmering resentment of the other’s stubbornness. Keith made a point of coming out into the living room and turning on the tv, gathering most of the blankets they owned and making a cozy nest on the couch. When Shiro hesitantly came into the room, Keith sighed at Shiro’s expression.  
  
“C’mon, Shiro. I’m tired of fighting, okay?”  
  
Shiro’s shoulders slumped in relief and his eyes crinkled around a smile.  
  
“Yeah, me too. Orange chicken, fried rice, and cream cheese wontons?”  
  
“You know me so well.”  
  
Keith responded dryly. His order had been the same for years and Shiro chuckled as he rang the Chinese place to put in their orders. Shiro went to the stove and made some spiced cider for them to drink, adding way more cinnamon to his portion than Keith thought was strictly healthy. (A few years back, when the dumbasses of the internet had made up the cinnamon challenge, Keith had been both appalled and dimly impressed at the fact that Shiro not only accepted the cinnamon challenge, asked Keith to film it, and then proceeded to eat the entire spoonful of cinnamon without so much as a facial twitch.) Cider in one hand and Chinese food in the other, they toasted to Christmas Eve and each other’s health. Shiro insisted on watching It’s A Wonderful Life, the way they did every Christmas, and Keith had stopped asking for a different movie years ago, accepting the fact that he’d have to suffer through the same cheesy shit year after year.   
  
The next morning, Keith gave Shiro the shitty newspaper-wrapped boxed set of every season of Fixer Upper. Shiro practically glowed with joy. He smiled beatifically when he presented Keith’s present, also hurriedly wrapped with last week’s catalogs that Keith had seen atop their counter only the night previous. Keith ripped it open and clutched the Property Brothers DVDs to his chest with a grin. They knew each other so well, it was almost scary.  
  
“Keith, I also…want to apologize. For before. I know we put it aside, and I don’t want to drag up stuff, but I _am_ sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think I doubt you or am disappointed. I support you, Keith, whatever you want to do.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I promise I’ll keep an open mind and not be so defensive, okay? You _were_ right about the whole having friends thing, after all.”  
  
Keith smiled, trying to lighten the mood.   
  
“I think I was definitely right about that. Considering you had to call me, frantically yelling, as soon as you got home from your shopping date with Lance.”  
  
Shiro gently nudged Keith’s side, proceeding to rib him about Keith’s detailed description of the entire encounter, Lance’s outfit, his own outfit, reciting the precise phrases Lance had used, and how Keith had gushed for ten whole minutes about Lance placing his hand on Keith’s back when they exited the store and Lance held the door open for him.   
  
“I did not _gush!_ Or talk about it for ten minutes!”  
  
Shiro disrespectfully disagreed. They spent the day reminiscing about all of the embarrassing things both Keith and Shiro had done over the years; both trying to one up each other. When Keith brought up the Kool-Aid Man Incident, Shiro backed down, declaring a truce. Keith argued that Shiro had dropped out, making Keith the de-facto winner, but Shiro reminded Keith that he ought to respect his elders and also, it was time for food. Against his better judgement, Keith concurred about the food and conceded to the truce so Shiro would go out and buy them something tasty.  
  
The day after Christmas, Keith woke up tangled in sweaty sheets, clinging desperately to the last remnants of a _very_ pleasant dream. He groaned, rolling over and tucking the damp sheets more tightly around his torso. He felt a weird combination of grossed out and too turned on to care. Squinting one eye open, Keith located the conspicuous shoebox on his nightstand, within easy reach of him. He sluggishly reached out, knocking the top off and fumbling around inside. The night before, he’d guessed that his heat would start in the next day or two and had left the box of heat aids out for that specific purpose, so present-Keith thanked past-Keith for being so insightful. His arm didn’t _quite_ reach so he wiggled his wrapped up body closer to the edge of the bed, unwilling to leave the warm spot he’d slept in. Frustrated, and still tired, Keith sleepily closed his fist around a familiar toy.  
  
It was the first toy he’d ever bought, using money he’d saved up doing chores for Shiro and some of the other kids at the orphanages. Some people were unbelievably keen to pay money just to get out of doing their laundry or washing dishes. Keith didn’t really understand; none of the chores were especially difficult or time-consuming. But he’d been happy to take their money. In the store, Keith remembered being overwhelmed by the possibilities. He’d been cautious, ending up with a good quality vibrator on a long string which attached to a slim remote. Only later, after he’d gotten some alone time to fully investigate the toy, had he realized exactly how much it resembled a Wii remote. The realization might have put off a lesser man, but Keith was a horny teenager, and a wrist strap wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He’d heard the horror stories parroted around school of people going to the emergency room with an assortment of vegetables stuck up their asses, (in one lurid story, Keith shuddered to recall, someone had used a Lego Batman figurine, which was _horrifying_ ). Better safe than sorry.   
  
Distinctly focusing back on his previous dream, Keith put the butts-gone-wrong stories firmly out of his mind. He’d been warm, lying in a soft nest. Keith repositioned some of his numerous pillows, grabbing a couple extra from the foot of his bed where he kept spares for just this kind of occasion. He sighed happily, burrowing deeply within the nest, surrounded with his own scent, both comforting and arousing. He wriggled a hand to his legs, shifting on his side, and petting down his thigh a few times. Reaching between his cheeks, he found himself to be a little slippery already, easing the vibe’s way inside. He rubbed the metal bead at the tip of the dildo around his rim, shivering excitedly at the cold metal against his overheated skin, before slipping it inside. He powered up the remote, gently thrusting the dildo in and out a few times to let his body adjust to the ministrations. He breathed deeply, reveling in the soft acceptance and widening of his body. Once it had settled nicely, Keith pressed the button to inflate the tube, humming at the slow stretch. He adjusted it comfortably, on the lowest vibration setting, so that it sat with the vibrating tip just above his sweet spot, not wanting anything too intense in his dreamy state. He squirmed, trying to get his hand down to his half-hard cock, the movement lodging the dildo deeper inside and making him gasp in pleasure.   
  
He began to lazily jerk himself, spending more time just rubbing up and down the sensitive insides of his thighs, brushing the hairs the wrong way for extra sensation. In that state, nearly everything felt good, and Keith had never been bashful when it came to his own body. An image of Lance, sleep mussed hair in his eyes, flashed in Keith’s mind and, too sleepy and horny to care, he embraced the fantasy. Imaginary Lance grumbled about being woken up so early and cuddled closer, sighing at how much warmth Keith emitted. Keith’s eyes fluttered closed, losing himself in the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Lance every night and waking up to soft, dark skin, gentle breathing on his neck, and a hard cock nestled in the crease of his ass. Keith allowed the imagery to become more vivid, or maybe he did fall back asleep. Not awake himself either, and mysteriously naked, Lance instinctively nuzzled his neck, leaning his weight forward and pushing Keith mostly onto his stomach, and burying his cock inside of Keith at Keith’s needy whine. An omega himself, Lance’s cock barely filled Keith’s hole, teasing deliciously at his walls.   
  
Lance began to hump unconsciously, while Keith tried to shift the dildo in time to his dream. Lance moaned gently, hardly awake, and Keith released low, quiet hums of pleasure. Lance’s hands slid up Keith’s side to hold him snugly against Lance’s chest, mumbling soft, sweet endearments that made Keith’s heart beat a little faster, fantasy or not. Keith ground his ass back against the pillows he could pretend were Lance, warmed with his own feverish body heat, and inadvertently shoved the dildo deeper into himself. He gasped as it brushed over his cervix, opened slightly from his heat and unbelievably sensitive, to the point of pain. Something in him, an old instinct, made him bear down on the vibrating metal tip, clenching his teeth against the intrusion. His body blossomed to accept it in, sucking the tip inside against his pulsating walls. Keith let out a low, hurt sound, clamping his legs hard around it. He knew, dimly, what was happening. His body was trying to milk an alpha of his cum, to suck the pearls of semen deep inside his uterus. No such pearls would be forthcoming, but the metal bead was just the right size to pretend with. Suddenly masochistic and frantic, Keith increased the vibrations and had to immediately muffle a shout into his pillow as he came blindingly hard. Sparks bloomed behind his eyelids and he shuddered for long seconds as slick dripped out of his hole, around the dildo, and his cock deflated in his sticky hand. He breathed heavily, shifting the dildo so that the bead slipped out of the overstimulated channel and turned off the vibrating function. His chest felt loose, lungs burning, and a wave of sleepiness washed over him.   
  
He focused on steadying his breath, thinking sleep would claim him again soon. Keith considered trying to fumble the dildo out of himself, but quickly dismissed the thought of more movement. His arms lay heavy, curled around an errant pillow, and mentally followed the sweat that dripped down the small of his back slid between his legs to mix with his own release. Keith decided to leave the dildo inside of him for comfort. It always helped the heat-induced cramps to be stuffed with something and there was no way he’d be getting up any time soon. Satisfied, he nuzzled the pillow, picturing Lance’s smooth, manicured fingers rubbing over his abdomen, with a level of familiarity of a couple who’d been together a long time. He hoped he’d dream of Lance again.   
  
A few days before Keith was scheduled to fly back to campus, he checked his school email and opened one from the Housing Office with trepidation. Much to his dismay, Keith had finally been subjected to the inevitable: he officially had a roommate. Some guy named Rolo something would be moving in at the beginning of next semester. Keith groaned, closing his laptop harshly. Shiro tried to convince him that it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, after all, he’d made some new friends in an unlikely place already. Keith rolled his eyes. Shiro made it sound like just because Keith found some kindred spirits at college, he and this dude would automatically get along and everything would be peachy.   
  
He came back to university, refreshed, but cautious. As it turned out, the roommate situation went both worse and better than Keith or Shiro could have imagined. Better because the guy mainly kept to himself and spent most of his time either out and about or falling asleep in strange positions around the room. He didn’t try to be Keith’s friend and was content to just greet him with a lazy wave when they saw each other. Rolo didn’t bring up the small area in the corner by Keith’s bed where he kept his tiny altar. Which was great because Keith definitely wasn’t ready to have to explain himself and his religion. Worse because the room constantly stank of weed, and Rolo couldn’t be bothered to smoke elsewhere, even when asked politely, (on multiple occasions), which only irritated Keith more. He wasn’t worried that the RA would rat them out, or notice, but it became difficult to sleep when the room was either thick with smoke or cold, since Keith prevailed on Rolo to open their window.   
  
All in all, the remainder of January wasn’t so bad. He got used to the smell, eventually, and the coven had gotten in all of their teasing quips at the first meeting. Keith had suffered through various takes on stoner emo and taking a few years to realize that weed was legal, or asking if there was something to celebrate for a decent 20 minutes before snapping at everyone to shut the fuck up. His other worry about coming back, that Lance would have forgotten all of the progress they had made back in fall semester, was also for naught. They still weren’t quite _friends,_ but they were civil acquaintances. Most of the time, at least. One conversation stood out in Keith’s mind and he mulled it over for days afterwards, agonizing over the impediments remaining in his and Lance’s relationship.   
  
It had been a casually off-hand remark. Not something Keith had expected to carry any emotional baggage. He’d just mentioned that, in a few months, it’d be Lance’s turn to mentor Keith and that he was interested in Lance’s specialties. To his surprise, Lance had clammed up, not bothering to hide a grimace. Keith raised his eyebrows, taken aback. He’d thought they’d moved past the blatant distaste for Keith’s presence. A stab of hurt lanced through and Keith mirrored Lance’s closed-off posture, frowning at the floor where they sat. He cleared his throat and tried to ask, as neutrally as possible,  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Lance barely made eye contact, mumbling something under his breath that Keith couldn’t quite catch. Before he had the chance to question Lance further, though, Lance faced him with a blinding smile. It threw Keith off balance and he blinked. The smile was obviously faked, but he didn’t know if they were close enough for him to call Lance out on it.  
  
“Actually, I was wondering if you’d mind helping me out with Advanced Astronomy? I mean, you’re in the class and since you did so well in the last class…”  
  
“I thought you said I cheated?”  
  
“You did! But, m-maybe you can use your cheating powers for good. Like helping a buddy out.”  
  
Keith couldn’t stop the fond expression as it spread over his face. His arms relaxed at his sides.  
  
“That would mean we’re buddies, you know.”  
  
Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Shiiiiiiit. Apparently, it was the right thing to say because Lance’s face lit up, less brilliantly than before, but less fake too. His eyes crinkled in the corners.   
  
“Yeah. I guess it would.”  
  
Aside from his excitement at spending some quality time with Lance, even if it was under the pretense of studying for astronomy, Keith also found that Shay actually lived up to the alpha stereotype of a strict taskmaster. Since finals were over and everyone was getting back into the swing of things with spring semester, Shay took the opportunity to meet with Keith three times a week during January, clearly trying to make up for lost time by ruthlessly drilling Keith about crystals and their associations, sequestering them for hours to focus and practice meditation. They covered ancestor connections and spells used to communicate with them, though Keith was wary of contacting his father again for the time being. Given his hesitance in that area, Shay generously offered to let them spend extra time on divination using her rune stones. Keith wasn’t sure if the stones were just accustomed to Shay and didn’t take kindly to his energy or if he sucked at telling the future, but stone-based divination was _not_ his thing. Shay refused to accept that fact, however, and insisted on practicing often. She was more demanding than most of Keith’s professors, almost as much as Professor Iverson, widely known as the school’s harshest teacher.   
  
At the end of four grueling weeks, when February finally was around the corner, Shay released Keith to Allura, proudly declaring him a success. She let him keep the Tiger’s Eye that he’d been using under her tutelage, claiming that the stone had become acclimated to his magick and it would be a waste of effort for her to reclaim it. He’d been appreciative, nonetheless, and believed that, no matter how intimidating Allura might seem, she had to give Keith a break. Right?


	5. Chapter 5

Most assuredly, Allura did _not_ give Keith a break.  
  
Their first meeting clued Keith in to Allura’s work ethic. She spent the beginning quizzing Keith on everything he had learned so far, only explaining her own magickal niche when she was satisfied with Keith’s answers. He thumbed frantically through his phone’s notes and she disapprovingly recommended that he make a physical grimoire to record everything he learned. Keith hedged, responding that he’d get around to that at some point. Allura pursed her lips and finally took Keith over to the large chest in the corner of the room they normally used for ritual meet-ups. Keith had never given it a second look since it was always covered up with a large, unexceptional cloth. Allura carefully removed it and Keith peered at the set up curiously.  
  
“This is my personal altar and I believe the altar should be kept private. It is an intimate look at whoever it belongs to and since everyone gathers here weekly, I prefer to cover it up. You are actually only the second other person who I’ve ever shown it to.”  
  
Keith felt a surge of pleasure of being close enough with Allura for her to feel comfortable sharing this with him. He smiled at her and she returned the expression.  
  
“I specialize in a few different aspects, maybe more than any of the others. It’s not a matter of talent or dedication, you must understand, simply that they overlap with each other. It is not a boast to say you specialize in many different parts of Wicca. Mine are dream interpretation and healing, in general. More specifically, I study star and wind magick. You might have heard of expressions like: The moon is in the rising house of Venus and the sign of Aries is powerful. Something like that. I have compiled numerous charts explaining the energies involved with the Earth’s revolutions around the sun and the moon’s around Earth, how these correspond with types of magick and what is stronger when. The wind magick is less of an area of study and more of a natural talent when it comes to energies associated with wind, or the East. Some of the most powerful wind-based magicks revolve around influencing others’ dreams, lucid dreaming, and dream interpretation, so you can see how it all ties together.”  
  
Keith didn’t exactly understand, in fact, but he was too busy trying to keep up with her brisk pace to tell her.  
  
“I worship a Mesopotamian god, Ninurta. They are the god of farming, healing, hunting, law, scribes, and war. Ninurta was also known to appear to their followers by walking in dreams. Ancient gods often symbolized many different aspects in order to appeal to as many people as possible, but I worship Ninurta primarily in respect to healing, dream-walking and law. As such, I chose altar representations that reflect those aspects. Ninurta was typically depicted as having wings and being surrounded by eagles, which corresponds with the winds. That’s why I have a statue of a perched bird and feathers I’ve collected from fields I’ve wandered across. Similarly, the sachet is an embroidered pillow for dream-walking and a mini-plow to symbolize the farming aspect for growing. The telescope I actually use to stargaze on occasion, although the glass has become somewhat smudged over the years. My other items are not unique to me or my patron deity. Most witches have some kind of wand for casting, incense to clear the mind, and a kind of broom, which we call a besom, to sweep away negative energies or ideas.”  
  
Keith leaned closer with an inquisitive look on his face, a hand twitching slightly.  
  
“That’s a pretty nice looking telescope. It’s small, but it’s an expensive brand and seems well-made. Where did you get it?”   
  
Allura sighed and Keith instantly regretted asking the question. She leaned away slightly and put her hands behind her to crack her back audibly. Keith winced a little at the noise.   
  
“I got it as a present a few years ago, from my father.”  
  
Keith gave her a sympathetic look.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Allura glared at him sharply.  
  
“Stop. You ought to know how useless and _stupid_ it is for someone to apologize to you when you’ve lost someone. It isn’t anyone’s fault, just the cycle of life and death.”  
  
“Maybe. But no one else ever figured out anything better to say in response and feeling bad for someone, especially when you know what they’re going through, seems like as good of an answer as any.”  
  
Allura narrowed her eyes and broke their gaze.  
  
“I didn’t mean to snap. It’s still a sensitive topic for me. My father…he was my hero. Still is, I suppose.”  
  
She laughed sadly and looked away. Keith’s heart ached for her. He’d heard one of the others mention that Allura’s mother had passed away when she was terribly young and she’d relied mainly on her father and a beloved uncle. Then her father had died earlier in the year. Keith had seven _years_ to work on moving past his father’s death and he could hardly remember the months immediately following it; he couldn’t imagine focusing on friendships and academically challenging courses during that grief.  
  
“I get it. My pop is my hero too.”  
  
His voice broke a little as he spoke, but Allura paid it no mind. She nodded sadly and continued.  
  
“He was an American diplomat in the British Embassy; that’s how he met my mother and my uncle Coran. Coran isn’t a blood relative, you see, but he was my father’s best friend and he helped us so much after my mother. That’s what he did though. My father, I mean. He was charming and charismatic, made friends so easily wherever he went. Didn’t matter if he walked into a room without knowing a soul, he’d come out with at _least_ three people who’d recall him fondly and be willing to go out for a drink sometime. I admired that so much as a little girl. He just radiated this aura of confidence, but was never condescending or cocky about it. He always seemed to know exactly the right thing to say. He used to say that I have the makings of a politician for the people; he even encouraged me to major in political science at university. But he also warned me that I have the same temper as my mother, that we both were liable to hold on to a grudge for too long. I never had much of an opportunity to know her, but the stories he and Coran would tell about her made it seem like once she was angry, the whole world would know. Much like me.”  
  
Allura laughed bitterly, a note of self-deprecation creeping in. Then, she sighed.  
  
“What I’m trying to say is that I have noticed Lance is still very quiet. Much more so than usual. He’s been this way for months and I thought, once we’d cleared the air before, that things would go back to normal. In retrospect, the way I expressed my anger and then my apology were…flawed, but I genuinely thought that it would help. And now, I can see that you two are getting along much better, which I had hoped to facilitate all along. I’m glad, please don’t think I’m not, it’s just that I miss Lance. Who he used to be. I really thought he’d get over the conflict and things would be good again. But, they aren’t and for that, I blame myself.”  
  
Keith didn’t do her the discourtesy of refuting the acknowledgement of her poor handling of the situation, nor did he want to offer her useless platitudes to bolster her confidence. He couldn’t do that to Lance, couldn’t brush off the situation that caused him so much pain and sadness. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.  
  
“It isn’t _all_ your fault, Allura. I know you think that because of your problem with him and you feel responsible for him as his coven leader or whatever, but it’s not all on you. My understanding is that there were also other, complicating factors. Other shit going on in Lance’s life that contributed to his mood. He was the one who told me that, actually. And, I wasn’t there for the big, group apology thing, but, based on Lance’s attitude, I’d say it didn’t really have the intended effect. Some of that might have been miscommunication between you guys, but it might not hurt to try apologizing again?”  
  
Allura bit her lip and fiddled with her long hair, twisting it anxiously around a finger.  
  
“Yes, it definitely did _not_ have the intended effect. I’m worried that it may have sounded fake or demonstrative because I was put on the spot. I wish I could have been able to calmly approach him on my own terms, but I was already defensive at the time from Pidge calling me out so suddenly. I wasn’t trying to pretend to be sorry, or to make it seem like I was only settling everything because I wanted to keep up appearances; Lance is a dear friend and I wanted to make amends. But trying to apologize again? I’m not sure. I don’t want to bring up the painful past. Perhaps, it was a difficult time that we are now moving on from. It has been months, after all.”  
  
Keith shook his head in disagreement.  
  
“I can’t force you to, but I don’t think an apology would be remiss here. Lance may have gotten a little better, but, from what I know about him, he doesn’t seem like the type of person to ever really let go of things. Maybe it was different with me, since he knows you’re his friend, despite what happened, but I can’t imagine that a genuine apology could possibly make things _worse._ ”  
  
“Yes, I see. Ideally, I’d like to brainstorm something, some kind of gesture, that encompasses more than a simple apology for that misunderstanding. I believe that the heart of the problem was my failure to recognize him as a person who has grown and changed; someone mature enough to be confronted with ill behaviors who would consider them thoughtfully and behave differently in the future. Not only did I make assumptions about his future behaviors, but I never even let him know just how much he’d hurt me in the past. How could I have hoped for a better relationship if I was unwilling to bring the subject up?”  
  
Keith nodded, allowing Allura to use him as a sounding board and staying silent for the moment.   
  
“I do trust him and I see now how wrong I was about his character. I don’t just consider him to be the group ‘goofball’ as Pidge once named him. I’d like to find a way to make up for what I’ve done and also demonstrate that renewed trust in our friendship.”  
  
Keith chose his next words very carefully.  
  
“I think I may have an idea.”  
  
Allura cocked her head, cutting off her own rant to listen intently. Sweat beaded at the nape of Keith’s neck. He was making what could turn out to be a bad decision. The last time he’d tried to interfere in Lance’s life without asking, he’d been the catalyst of a pretty bad fight. Privately, Keith believed that everyone would eventually be better for having fought and aired their issues, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a regret. More to the point, he’d proven to himself before that he was unable to predict Allura’s reactions and suggesting something of this caliber might end poorly.   
  
“You’re the High Priestess for the coven, but usually there’s also a High Priest too, right? Well, what if you make Lance the High Priest?”  
  
Allura hummed thoughtfully, a dubious look upon her face.  
  
“I’m…not sure that’s exactly what I had in mind. That’s a lot of responsibility and pressure to lay on someone. When I volunteered to lead our coven, back when we formed it, I had no idea what I was getting in to. As you said, Lance is dealing with some issues at the moment and, although you’re correct about the action proving that I trust and respect him, I can’t be sure it wouldn’t simply overwhelm him. He isn’t what you would call a natural leader. What if I offered it to him and he felt obligated to accept?”  
  
Keith stubbornly protested, laying out the times when Lance had been there for their friends, had instinctively known just what to say or do in most situations. His ideas were often more trouble than they were worth, but they were rooted in _having fun_ , a concept that would mesh well with Allura’s stern leadership. Allura demurred and Keith was worried that she’d dismiss the idea completely if he didn’t make his point clear.  
  
“Maybe you don’t know Lance as well as you think.”  
  
It wasn’t the response he’d been looking for, seeing as how visibly upset Allura became at his words, but he stood by the sentiment. He didn’t need to be so harsh, but it was all that came to mind and Allura finally agreed to think it over. That was all he could ask of her, really.   
  
Only a few days later, everyone gathered at Allura’s to celebrate Imbolc. She had given Keith a basic run down of the sabbat while he helped her set up the altar, leaning a giant, ancient-looking broom against the low table. Allura called it a ‘besom’, explaining that it was a traditional implement used primarily the same way a normal broom was. She laid out numerous matches on the altar and the number of candles in the room seemed excessive to Keith, even taking the previous celebrations into account.   
  
“Imbolc is a more subdued holiday, known by some as a ‘sleepy sabbat’. It is a time when life begins to awaken from its deep hibernation, grateful for having survived the winter. Everyone prepares for the warmth and light of spring. It is a very personal time, a moment of transformation when desires open their eyes and start to move forward with the thawing of the ground.”  
  
She smiled ruefully as she strode forward with purpose and threw open the one window in the room with a grunt.  
  
“Well, in our case, I suppose it is only the metaphorical thawing, hmm?”  
  
He returned the smile, rolling his shoulders a few times to loosen them up. He’d been a little bit worried about bringing out a large saucer of milk, fearing that it’d be warm by the time the ritual commenced. Allura had laughed and reassured him that it was purely symbolic and no one would be consuming it; Pidge was lactose intolerant and everyone had to go through the same motions during a ritual. Allura continued with her description.  
  
“Most commonly, a blessing of candles is performed, to honor the goddess Brighid. She is an ancient Irish goddess, as well as a Catholic saint. She symbolized many aspects and we, as a coven, worship her maiden form as the Goddess in our ceremony. She is said to represent childbirth, the cycle of change, healing, learning, and the flames of inspiration, among many other things. One of my personal favorite stories about her says that she was responsible for bestowing upon humanity the gift of the written word. Of course, we still invoke the God as well, to maintain balance.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Keith got to witness the balanced invocations not twenty minutes later, seated comfortably on the ground. For Imbolc, he’d been simply given a candle and a match, having been told to bring along his new knife for the occasion. He watched as the coven went around the circle, invoking the elements, north, east, south, west, with some confusion. They still used the same lighter as always to set each candle alight. He idly rubbed the end of the match against his thumb, wondering when the matches would come in to play.   
  
“We call upon the Blessed Forge’s unending embers and heat. Empower our hands and tools to fulfill, reshape, and refine our needs.”  
  
“We call upon the Great Teacher’s swift winds of vision. Give us the wisdom to stand and the courage to stand by our decisions.”  
  
“We call upon the light and warmth of the Eternal Flame. Let us wake to the bright dawn and embrace any change.”  
  
“We call upon the Sacred Well’s melting ice. Protect our healing waters and accept our willing sacrifice.”  
  
Allura raised her arms up and warmly intoned:  
  
“Under the playful child Lord’s gaze are we filled with joy, acceptance, and tranquility. Under the hand of the Goddess Brighid, Lady of the undying fire, life and it’s inevitable change, we ask that you heed our call, both man and woman, as from the stagnant darkness we are freed!”  
  
Keith jumped as everyone stomped twice in unison, unprepared for the way it reverberated throughout the wooden floor. He had to scramble out of the way fast when Allura stepped forward, kneeling near him in front of the altar. Everyone sank to the floor, the circle much smaller than usual. Keith supposed it was to enable easy access to the altar, where white candles balanced precariously on the edge with matches to spare. She dipped a few fingers into the saucer of milk, swirling them around three times, counter-clockwise. She dripped the milk onto a white candle set up next to it, before drying them with a small cloth, conveniently under the saucer. As she lit the candle with one of the matches strewn about, she murmured:  
  
“As I light this candle, I ask that you send us your nourishment that even our invisible wounds will heal. The first milk is an open door, allowing the slowly awakening world inside. Bring your energy to the candle, lit in your honor, that we may have the fortitude to give aid and charity to all those we meet in need.”  
  
She stood smoothly, stepping away from the altar and resuming her usual place within the circle. She nodded, indicating that something was to begin. A small gesture from Hunk had Keith picking up the candle he’d been giving and mimicking the others’ behavior, carving into the candle with his knife. No one had given him instructions beyond a vague order to concentrate on inner peace and serenity while he carved a meaningful symbol into the candle. It was to honor Brighid and she was the goddess of fire, so Keith figured he couldn’t go wrong with a crude engraving of fire on the side of the candle. He was careful not to press too hard and kept the etching on the surface. He snuck a few subtle looks at Lance, who had a very cute habit of letting the tip of his tongue peek out from between his pursed lips as he worked.  
  
As the others finished and set their candles down, he peered around at their symbols. Hunk had drawn an upside down triangle with a horizontal line bisecting the middle. Pidge had drawn the same symbol, but right-side up. In fact, it looked like most of them had drawn a variation on a triangle, although he couldn’t see Lance and Shay’s candles as well. Allura took longer, but finally she proudly brandished her candle for Keith to examine. A circle, divided into roughly equal 8 slices, like a pie. Pidge leaned over to whisper, pushing her glasses up from where they had slipped down her nose.   
  
“We each carved the traditional symbols associated with our elements. Allura’s is for Spirit.”  
  
Keith nodded, glancing uneasily at his own carving. The few lines he’d carved suddenly looked like a child’s drawing, all jagged details and hesitant lines. He _definitely_ should have asked for some guidance before digging in any old thing. He barely had time to worry about his candle though, before Allura delicately cleared her throat and spoke to the group. Everyone moved, walking forward on their knees, and set their candles before them on the altar, the carving facing inwards to the center. Keith wasn’t sure if his candle should join them or not. He made to rise up onto his knees, but Shay saw the movement and shook her head.   
  
“Gracious Gods, we come before you on this day, when the light is strengthening in the world, that your blessings might be bestowed upon these tools of fire gathered here. Let them provide pure and true energy, steadfast and shining. May you protect their tiny flames from being extinguished or tainted, as we ask you to protect us from the same.”  
  
“Protect us.”  
  
Everyone murmured in return. Keith hurriedly chimed in. Allura struck a match and lit her candle, gesturing at everyone else to do so. Keith lit his candle slowly, shielding the flame from the slight breeze gusting in through the wide, open window. He shook out his match and concentrated on his candle, wondering if he should have put it somewhere to prevent any dripping. Allura kindly leaned over and took his candle, setting his next to hers in the center of the circle. Everyone seemed to settle in their normal meditation poses, but instead of letting their eyes flutter shut, Keith noticed that, instead, they focused on the slight jumping and waving of the fires. He copied them, breathing deeply and slowing his heart rate, trying to empty his mind. After a few minutes, Allura stood and picked up the broom/besom and began gently sweeping around the edge of the circle, going counter-clockwise and beginning with Hunk, pausing to sweep in front of each seated person. She hummed a tune that Keith didn’t recognize, making her way around the circle. When she came to sweep in front of Keith, she explained the purpose of the ritual.  
  
“Many celebrate by cleaning house. I’m using the besom now to sweep away the mess and clutter our minds gathered during the winter. Visualize negative energies or thoughts and feelings you want gone draining out of your hands in front of you. Sometimes, the emotions aren’t necessarily bad, but you have matured and outgrown them.”  
  
Keith nodded, trying to picture the worry and indecision he’d let build up in the deep recesses of his mind flowing out to the floor beneath Allura’s busy besom. He thought about Shiro, questioning Keith’s commitment to his life’s path, and the hurt, the confusion, it had brought on. He thought about the anger in Lance’s eyes when Keith had joined the coven, and again, when Keith had offered the drink to him. He thought about the way his stomach sank at Lance’s broken-hearted expression at Pidge’s malicious teasing. He thought about how he’d partially held a grudge against Allura on Lance’s behalf, since the guy didn’t seem capable of defending himself from his own friends. Keith let all the feelings be felt, endured the suffering for a second time, and then released them with the stale air in his lungs. When Allura had taken her seat again, everyone looked eagerly over to Pidge. She leaned back, playing at being casual, but obviously enjoying the attention.   
  
“Aaaaaaaand now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Tarot readings!”  
  
Hunk grinned and sat forward happily, rubbing his hands together.  
  
“Most of us have different types of fortune telling, you saw Shay with her rune stones, me with the tea leaves, and Lance has his throwing bones, so we like to show off during sabbats. I mean, not really me, because Allura and I are the only ones who even _like_ tea, so mine’s sort of not happening. And Lance usually does his thing during Beltane, because that’s his holiday, you know. We haven’t figured something out with Shay; I’m hoping she’ll do it for Ostara. But Imbolc is Pidge’s thing.”  
  
Pidge smiled and produced her tarot deck, stroking the cards.  
  
“It’s a simple spread; nothing too complicated for you bozos, so don’t worry. It’s a three card spread. The center one is the issue at hand, whatever you’re conflicted about or concentrating on during the reading, the left one is what lead to it, or what kinds of tools you have at hand to work on the issue, and the right one is how the decision will affect you going forward.”  
  
“So…past, present, future?”  
  
Pidge sniffed indignantly.  
  
“Yeah, if you wanna come off like a simpleton.”  
  
Keith rolled his eyes good-naturedly. He readied himself for the reading, wondering if the lingering confusion he still felt about Shiro’s outburst and his father’s dream was something the tarot cards could shed some light on. He’d read that tarot readings worked better when asked a yes or no question and that the more complicated an issue, the more unintelligible the results. It didn’t _seem_ like an overly complicated thing, but it wasn’t simple either. Keith had hoped to watch the others’ readings first, to get a better idea of whether his dilemma was appropriate or not, but even that bit of guidance wasn’t in the cards for him. Pidge and whoever was the recipient went off to a corner of the room, leaving the others to chat in the center. Keith was disappointed; not only had he wanted to know what kinds of issues were being used, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity about Lance’s reading either. Shay noticed his consternation as Hunk and Pidge initially separated themselves.  
  
“It was my idea, Keith. I think that fortune telling is intimate and sometimes what is revealed may be something we would have rather kept secret, even from each other. While it is not usually the case, readings can bring up painful memories or feelings and it can be hard to deal with such circumstances in the presence of others. Therefore, it is a fortune teller’s duty to explain the reading, nothing more. Not to pry or gossip later. We must then ponder on the insights we have learned and decide what steps to take.”  
  
Keith sighed heavily. That…made sense. He certainly didn’t want anyone to feel like he was intruding and he guessed, since so much of fortune telling was left to interpretation, that really anything might be fair game. He waited patiently for his turn, smiling hesitantly at Hunk who couldn’t stop bursting into random fits of happy giggles after his reading. Finally, Pidge imperiously waved him over. The deck was shuffled in her tiny hands and Keith selected the three cards, placing them in the positions that Pidge dictated. She explained each one as she flipped them over.   
  
“Your first one, the issue at hand, is represented by an upside down Star. As a Major Arcana card, we know that it is a life-altering issue and one that should be considered carefully. Typically, reversed, the star shows being discouraged, or a lack of faith. Not necessarily a lack of _religious_ faith, mind you, just losing confidence in something very central to your life.”  
  
Keith grimaced at the irony. The Star of all cards? At least he knew exactly what issue the cards were addressing. He nodded tightly and motioned at Pidge to continue. She flipped the next card, to his left.  
  
“The seven of wands. This card shows the best tools you have to assist in working through the issue. The suit of wands is associated with fire and, as a side note, the fact that you drew a wand card as a tool to help may be indicative of your primary element being fire, being opposed to water, all that. Just something else to think about. The seven represents competition, spurring on your natural persistence where it might have faltered without the active challenge to do better, to be better.”  
  
Keith blinked. Competition? He thought about Lance, somehow in most of his classes and sharing the same dream to major in Astronomy. Lance, accusing Keith of cheating in class because he couldn’t believe Keith had a higher grade than him. Lance, swallowing his pride and asking Keith to tutor him so that Lance could catch up and eventually beat Keith. Lance, so in tune with the element of water, clashing with Keith for so long, and, even after they started getting along better, still apt to challenge Keith to stupid contests like trying to eat more of Hunk’s treats after their meetings or who could clean up the altar faster. Lance’s competitive nature was the tool Keith should use? To figure out whether he wanted to go to space? Keith tried to focus on the last card, swallowing heavily.  
  
“And finally, another Major Arcana card. The Lovers.”  
  
Keith’s jaw dropped open, his throat suddenly dry. He hoarsely choked out:  
  
“What?”  
  
“Oh, calm down. The card just represents all human relationships. Basically, the issue being resolved with positively impact your relationships and bring you closer to the people you care about. That’s not _that_ unusual, Keith. Any time someone is occupied with a problem, it tends to dominate their mind, to the exclusion of family and friends. The resolution of a problem brings a relaxation that influences everyone you spend time with.”  
  
Pidge grinned at him and adjusted her glasses, letting the light glint off of them in a distinctly threatening way.  
  
“Although, that’s not to say that the issue might not help you find a special someone…”  
  
Keith flushed darkly, waving his hands rapidly in front of himself.   
  
“I thought fortune tellers weren’t supposed to pry!”  
  
Pidge stopped leaning into Keith’s space, her inquisitive eyebrows settling normally. She shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
“Eh, can’t help my natural curiosity.”  
  
Keith snorted and helped her collect the cards again. Because Imbolc was a more relaxed sabbat, everyone left pretty soon afterwards, most pretending that they wanted to do some spring cleaning. Keith was willing to bet that Shay was the only one who would actually _do_ any cleaning, but he said good-bye to everyone and let them maintain the fiction anyway. He made his excuses to Allura, wanting to walk around and think more about what Pidge had said. The walk didn’t give him any clarity, but the fresh air cleared his head and he felt better when he got back to the dorm, even going so far as to have a friendly chat with Rolo, who invited him to get stoned that night. Keith politely declined, thinking that some good old scary movies sounded pretty good right then.   
  
A few days later and the mellow mood of Saturday had disappeared in a puff of smoke when Lance texted him. Keith was only a little nervous before the first tutoring session their mutual schedules allowed. No matter what Shiro said on the phone when Keith called up in a panic about exactly how casual he should dress and if he should suggest that he and Lance study at his dorm, or if he should say a more neutral location like the library. Once he’d managed to get Shiro to stop unhelpfully laughing at him, Keith had extracted advice amounting to: don’t dress up more than you would to go to class and the best place for a tutoring session is where it’ll be most quiet.   
  
(“And try to actually get some _studying_ done, Keith.”  
  
“Shut up, Shiro.”)  
  
After some thought, (not agonizing or anything), Keith’s decision was taken from him when Lance texted to let Keith know that Lance’s roommate wouldn’t be in the room tomorrow and would Keith be cool coming over to his room? Lance said he’d provide snacks. Keith slapped his own forehead. Snacks! Of course! Snacks were a crucial element to any good study session and Keith had been about to suggest studying at the library, like an utter _fool._ Grateful for Lance’s foresight, Keith responded positively, wondering what counted as snacks to Lance and worriedly wondering what the appropriate way to decline if Keith didn’t like the snacks on offer would be. Shit. What if he got hungry and Lance offered him the snacks and Keith didn’t like them? Would it be rude to go out and get something else after Lance had gone to all the trouble to bring snacks for them? Should he ask ahead of time what snacks Lance had in mind? Should he just eat before the study session, or would that be rude?  
  
Maybe he had to call Shiro back.  
  
Upon arriving, Keith settled happily in to the chair Lance dragged in from the common room for him. To his utter relief, Lance’s idea of snacks consisted of cheddar and sour cream chips and maybe ordering a pizza later, depending on what they felt like. Finally able to settle into study-mode, Keith concentrating on imparting astronomical knowledge to Lance. They started with some of the new terminology for the semester and reviewing the last unit Astronomy 101 covered.   
  
“What albedo would you expect for a black hole?”  
  
“Zero percent. Black holes have too strong of a gravitational pull and reflect nothing.”  
  
“Define the term apastron.”  
  
“It’s a point between two stars in a binary system where the stars are farthest apart. Like the star equivalent of an aphelion.”  
  
They went back and forth for awhile. Keith smiled, pleased to hear how much of the material Lance was familiar with. There were a few questions that Lance didn’t know and others that took him a few minutes of puzzling out the answer, but overall Lance seemed to have a pretty good grasp of the vocabulary and concepts. If he didn’t know better, Keith might have thought that Lance had just wanted a study partner, but Pidge was also in their class so if Lance wanted that, he would have asked her, right? Unless their relationship had deteriorated too much, or low self-esteem meant that Lance wouldn’t feel comfortable studying with a certified prodigy…Well, maybe Keith understood Lance’s decision. Keith avoided the topic out of respect for Lance, but eventually, he had to bring up the most recent test. He braced himself for Lance being defensive over a low score, for the excuses Lance might have to explain it away. His wariness only increased when he brought up looking over the test they’d taken the previous week and Lance didn’t immediately protest. Keith raised his eyebrows at Lance’s score: 80%. He chewed his lip uncertainly and Lance immediately blushed, raising a hand to the back of his neck and rubbing it awkwardly.  
  
“Yeah, okay, I suck. I get it. What did you expect when I asked for tutoring? We can’t all be brilliant geniuses like you, mullet.”  
  
Keith shook his head rapidly, eyes wide.  
  
“N-no! I meant the opposite. I thought if you were asking _me_ for help that you were failing or something. An 80% is nothing to scoff at, Lance. I was thrilled last year when I managed to get an 80% on my chemistry tests. There’s nothing shameful about a B.”  
  
“There is when it’s your _major._ When it has to do with your dreams! Yeah, fine, if this was, I dunno, a Russian Literature class, then sure. But it’s not. I’ve always wanted to go to space, Keith. When I was a little kid, every year I wanted to dress up as a space super hero, from a mecha anime, or an astronaut. _Every year!_ I spent hours memorizing the constellations around my home in Cuba and won the school Science Fair a few times with my models of the planets and stars. Everything else is whatever, but this? This is supposed to be what I’m good at, Keith! I don’t want to be bad at other stuff, obviously, but I could be and it would be totally fine because this is what matters! Practically the only thing that matters.”  
  
Lance was getting really worked up and Keith didn’t know what to say to it. Lance ran his fingers through his hair a few times, mussing it roughly, before twisting his fingers together in his lap, tapping erratically on his leg. Keith desperately wanted to salvage the situation; didn’t want their first study session to end in disaster already. He tried the only method he’d ever been somewhat successful at: distraction.  
  
“Well, we’re going to work on it until it is your strength. But, I was wondering, why space?”  
  
Lance gave him and dirty look and sneered.  
  
“Whaddya mean ‘why space?’? _You’re_ taking the same core classes as me. You know why space.”  
  
Keith struggled to articulate.  
  
“I-I mean, yeah. I know why I want to go to space. What I want to know is why _you_ want to be an astronaut. How did you choose it, or whe-when did you know that’s what you want to do for the rest of your life?”  
  
Gods be praised, Lance actually considered the question, the thickening tension in the room dispersing rapidly. Lance proceeded to give Keith the long answer; a basic walk-through of growing up with multiple siblings who were all amazing at something and wanting to stand out and get attention from his parents. How he’d seen an episode of a show interviewing Neil deGrasse Tyson as a little kid and had just clicked with the idea of floating amongst the stars. How Lance wasn’t above the primal urge to desire the unknown and relish the idea of going where no man had gone before, to an uncharted planet in a galaxy far, far away. The more Lance rambled on about especially wanting to visit a distant moon of Pluto called Kerberos, the more Keith started to speculate on his own reasons, just in case Lance asked him.   
  
By the time Lance did, Keith hadn’t come to any firm conclusions. He gave the same short, standard answer he always did: his father had always dreamed of looking back at the Earth and seeing it as it really is: inconsequential within the universe and only important to those living on it. Lance thought that was kind of a depressing, but Keith argued that it helped keep problems and feelings in perspective. Remembering that nothing a single human does matters in the grand scheme of things had always provided Keith with a modicum of comfort during rough times. Lance was troubled by the idea, but cut himself off from probing more deeply. Keith wondered if Lance had noticed the same thing that Shiro had: that why _he_ wanted to go to space wasn’t actually part of his answer. Keith didn’t want to have the argument with Lance too, and somehow, he could tell that Lance would side with Shiro. It wasn’t something Keith was ready to discuss with anyone, so he brought the focus back to studying. On their next break, to head Lance off before he could bring it up again, Keith cast around for another topic. On a whim, Keith blurted out something that had been bothering him for weeks.  
  
“I know we talked about it before, but, uh. I’m still wondering why you seemed unhappy about being the next person to tutor me in Wicca? I kinda thought we were getting along now.”  
  
Lance grew quiet. Keith feared that he’d ruined the whole thing and started mentally berating himself for bringing it up again. He should have left well enough alone, hoped that maybe by the time it became Lance’s turn that he’d have moved on past the problem or adjusted to Keith’s presence better. He just, well, he didn’t understand Lance’s continued trepidation. But, shit, he _wanted_ to. Lance’s eyes darted around the table and Keith sighed, assuming that Lance would dismiss the question and change the subject again. To his surprise, Lance answered stiltedly, like he hadn’t even fully articulated the thought to himself before.  
  
“So, uh, yeah. Okay. I can see why you’re confused. Not about us getting along better, ‘cause we definitely are. Doing that. But, during Samhain, you know, I did a lot of thinking. Deep, soul-searching thoughts about endings and beginnings, you might say.”  
  
He smiled weakly at Keith. Keith couldn’t decide whether the smile he returned was encouraging or more of a grimace, based on the way the fragile expression on Lance’s face wobbled uncertainly. Keith turned his whole body to face Lance, employing every ‘active listener’ strategy he’d ever been taught.   
  
“I know that sometimes the way I feel is…disproportionate to the reality of a situation. And it’s hard to manage that, but I’m trying! And, uh, I also want to do what’s best for the coven. Not just because they’re my friends, but I think that by being so mad and anxious, I wasn’t just making them upset, but, like, I was upsetting myself even more? Does that make sense?”  
  
It didn’t, but Keith didn’t want to say so. He thought he understood the gist of it, though. His helpless confusion must have been apparent because Lance leaned back from the table, crossing one long leg over the other, bouncing it nervously. He ran a shaky hand through his hair.  
  
“Well, anyway. The only other option would have been to remove the source of stress altogether, which would mean me leaving the coven entirely-“  
  
“No!”  
  
Keith clamped his jaw shut. He hadn’t meant to interrupt, but the idea that Lance might _leave_ because Keith was there, that Keith’s very presence would force Lance out of his group of friends was too horrifying to remain silent. He winced, sure that now Lance would abandon the conversation completely. Instead, Lance gave him a tiny smirk.  
  
“Yeah, I get where you’re coming from, but you don’t have to worry. Even _my_ self-esteem isn’t so bad that I’d give up my friends cause I thought some dumbass was being inconsiderate.”  
  
A wave of relief crashed through Keith. It had never been an option in Lance’s mind and somehow that information, more than anything else, helped relax Keith’s guilty conscience a bit.  
  
“It’s kind of silly to say out loud, but I’d always sort of hoped that Allura might eventually choose me to be High Priest. She totally could choose anyone and they’d be great at it, but everyone else is pretty content with where they are and I thought when we finally found a sixth member, they’d learn to take my place as west and water, and I’d be High Priest.”  
  
Lance rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.  
  
“It was dumb to think so, the whole point was based on the new member being affiliated predominantly with water and that’s already a big if. And, before, I’d kind of viewed it as, like, moving up? Like a promotion I guess. It isn’t really. Just a different role to play. Even after I’d stopped having a crush on Allura, which was definitely the original reason I wanted to be High Priest, don’t get me wrong…I still wanted it? I still thought I’d have a chance and could be good at it.”  
  
Keith sucked in a breath, excitedly preparing to tell Lance that he’d put in a good word for him. That Keith had seen the coven in action for a few months, even with all of the distracting drama, and had been able to see how great of a leader Lance could be if given the opportunity. He put everyone else first, even going through his own shit. But, just as he opened his mouth to speak, Lance cut him off.  
  
“That was clearly a pipe dream. And part of the reason why I came to resent you so much. Like, you’d been hanging out with us for a few weeks and I could already see how much more everyone, like, respects you and listens to what you say. So, jealousy was sort of a factor there, but that was one of the things I’ve been working on in the-I mean, that I’ve been working on. Letting go of. Being the bigger person, focusing on my own strengths, all that bullshit.”  
  
Keith raised an eyebrow.  
  
“I don’t think recognizing and taking pride in what you’re good at is bullshit. But, I don’t agree with you about people being more willing to hear me out. You’re the one who _knows_ them well, the one who they can rely on, and, according to Hunk, the only person who can persuade him to really let loose his anxieties and _enjoy_ himself.”  
  
Lance smiled absently.  
  
“Hunk would say that. And I’m happy to hear it. But, look, you asked a question, so I’m trying to answer it, okay?”  
  
Keith nodded, abashed.  
  
“Anyway, my own jealousies and insecurities aside, I started realizing that it’s way more likely that _you’ll_ end up as High Priest, once your year and a day is up.”  
  
Keith started to protest hotly, but Lance made a snapping motion with his hand.  
  
“Up-up-up! Still talking! So I figured, it would be pretty stupid to keep being petty and cruel to someone who would eventually be kind of my superior, and obviously someone who wouldn’t be going away any time soon. And it wasn’t like anyone else was liking or listening to what I had to say.”  
  
Keith waited until he could be sure that Lance had finished his thought before giving him an encouraging smile.  
  
“You’ve been with them all longer. And they _do_ listen to you, even if it’s not obvious. You belong there and I think, if Allura is going to offer that opportunity to anyone, it’ll be you, Lance.”  
  
Lance gave Keith a doubtful look.  
  
“I haven’t exactly endeared myself to her, or anyone else lately. I mean, she spent years of our friendship practically hating me and I had no idea!”  
  
Keith frowned deeply. The whole handling of that situation still rubbed him the wrong way. Keith couldn’t imagine being so upset with someone who used to be one of his best friends so as to assume the worst of them, and hardly trust them, but still never say anything to that person. It seemed unlikely that Allura had never at least _hinted_ about the problem and even less likely that Lance, apparent master of social cues, had failed to pick up on the hints. It smacked of strange passive-aggressive behavior and the desire to keep someone in a close social circle even while at odds with them and Keith couldn’t fathom any of it. Then again, maybe his lack of many friends growing up meant he wasn’t in a position to know. He knew he had to tread carefully on the topic, no matter his personal feelings.   
  
“I wasn’t there for that, and it’s not my place to judge anyway, but I wish she had told you, at least. It can’t be healthy to bottle stuff like that up.”  
  
Lance spread out his hands wide, pleadingly.  
  
“She probably did! She probably let me know tons of times that we weren’t just joking around or being silly; that it hurt her feelings and upset her. And I just, I don’t know! Ignored it? Missed it?”  
  
Lance slumped, collapsing in on himself miserably. Keith ached to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but wasn’t sure if the touch would be welcomed. He clenched his fists tightly in his lap. He tried to offer what comfort he could and spoke very gently.  
  
“Lance. If she offers it to me, I’ll turn it down. I couldn’t-I mean. I can’t do that to you.”  
  
Far from his intended comfort, the declaration appeared to visibly upset Lance, who grabbed Keith’s hands, startling both of them, and glare determinedly into Keith’s eyes. Lance’s gaze seemed to burn into Keith’s soul.  
  
“You have to promise me you won’t do that. Promise me, Keith.”  
  
Keith hesitated, still startled, and, secretly, wanting Lance to keep holding his hands a little longer, even if Lance’s increasingly firm grip grew uncomfortable.  
  
“Keith. Promise me.”  
  
“Okay. I-I promise.”  
  
Lance sat back, seemingly unaware of how far forward into Keith’s space he’d been leaning. His face was troubled and he stared off into the distance over Keith’s left shoulder, unconsciously relaxing his grip and idly stroking a thumb over the back of Keith’s hand, as if in apology. Keith barely breathed, committing the exact sensation to memory. When Lance came back, he shook his head and let go of Keith’s hands, grabbing his cell and excusing himself to order some pizza. They carefully avoided the topic for the rest of the evening and even managed to be productive and finish up their homework for the class. Keith left later with a full stomach and in good spirits, but with the promise he’d made weighing heavily on his heart.   
  
The first day of spring break, they held their ceremony for Ostara, the vernal equinox. Technically, the equinox was the day previous, but everyone had wanted to celebrate during the day time and they weren’t able to do so with conflicting class schedules on Friday. Pidge confided in Keith that she’d always figured that, being immortal beings and separated from human concepts like time, the gods just wanted to be remembered and worshipped, but likely weren’t particular on the _when._   
  
They gathered at the park; the weather finally cooperating enough to let them gather at noon on Saturday. The sun was shining and it was warm, but not _too_ warm. Hunk and Allura spread out some blankets and set the coolers off to the side, preventing Lance and Pidge from squirreling anything away before the ritual. They brought out small plates to balance the candles on and gathered flowers to lay in the center of the makeshift altar. Pidge requested that everyone take off their shoes to better connect with the earth beneath their feet. She’d barely finished talking and Lance had already shucked off his shoes happily. Keith raised an eyebrow and Lance shrugged.  
  
“What? I spent most of my childhood barefoot. Any excuse works for me.”  
  
Everyone was given a raw egg and a pin. Keith cradled it carefully in his hand as everyone stepped in to place. Crayons, brushes, and watercolor paints were set in the middle, allowing easy access to everyone. Keith wasn’t surprised that coloring eggs would be part of the Ostara celebration, but he wasn’t sure about the needles. He glanced around at the others uneasily. Everything he’d ever read about Wicca had called it a peaceful religion, far from the torture-based, animal sacrificing stupidity that some close-minded congregations preached about. He didn’t _think_ Allura would ask them to do a little blood-letting over their symbols of rebirth and spring-time, but he couldn’t altogether rule it out. He rolled the pin around on the pad of his thumb, watching the proceedings worriedly. They invoked the elements, calling on the spirits to bless their paths, embrace their coven, and counsel the steps they might take.   
  
“Sacred earth, home of all growing seeds, watchtowers of the North, join with us today. Let the earth awaken, sap coursing through trees, bearing announcement of new life.”  
  
“Sacred air, that which keeps us alive, watchtowers of the East, join with us today. The winds are warmer and flowers are fragrant on the breeze, bearing announcement of new life.”  
  
“Sacred fire, that brings heat to us all, watchtowers of the South, join with us today. The sun in the sky meets the dark with full force, melting the snows and bitter cold away, bearing announcement of new life.”  
  
“Sacred water, source of life, watchtowers of the West, join with us today. The streams flow once more, swollen with the melting snow, bearing announcement of new life.”  
  
“Maiden Goddess, soon to be Mother, known by many names. Robust Lord, soon to be Father, known by many names. We invoke your presence on this day of balance, of equal day and night. On this day of beginnings, join us in celebration. God and Goddess of the earth, the spring, and all living things. Join with us now.”  
  
Everyone sat down, finding a comfortable space on the grass and setting their needles off to the side by the candles. Keith recognized the beginnings of meditation time when Allura spoke again.  
  
“Spend time thinking about what in your lives, in your relationships, or in yourselves, feels out of balance and how it can be put to rights. What ideas and plans came to you during Imbolc and how will you put them into practice, now that spring is fully here? What advice do you seek from the spirits guiding us now? The days are lengthening, so now is the time to sew the seeds of productive change in the fertile soil of your consciousness.”  
  
They hummed their agreements and focused on steadying their breathing. Keith turned over thoughts of his father, of his commitment to the stars, and Shiro’s reluctance to accept Keith’s goal. The planting was supposed to represent solutions to problems, though, and Keith hadn’t come up with any kind of way to convince Shiro, or secretly, himself, that he was on the right path, as of yet. He visualized a garden, a small plot of loamy land, fenced in. Kneeling to the side a bit, Keith hesitantly laid a seed of his own willingness to be open to change and nourished it with his successes in adapting to a new school. He thought about his planted friendships in the coven and how they were already taking root. Lance’s growth was small and Keith took the time to water it, considering how he might encourage it to bloom as time went by. He added a small stick of supportive conversations and tutoring time to help the tiny bloom stand tall. He sewed a seed to intertwine with Lance’s plant that symbolized Keith’s determination to make Lance High Priest of their coven. Satisfied, Keith wiped the imaginary dirt from his hands and opened his eyes, waiting for the others to return.  
  
He was _very_ pleased to find that the next activity answered his doubts about the needle in a pleasant manner. Together, they gently poked small holes in the bottoms of their eggs to allow the egg yolk to drain out and leave behind an empty shell. They decorated the shells with the crayons and paint, only Lance and Allura managing to make any kind of elaborate design on theirs. Pidge drew a penis on hers and Keith looked at her in horror. She raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“What? It’s a fertility holiday.”  
  
Keith couldn’t help but feel the entire thing was disrespectful, but Allura and Shay just giggled and didn’t say anything else on the subject. He kept his egg simple, using wide strokes of the brush to paint layers of blue and purple. They used some ground herbs that Pidge had brought, some combination that smelled mostly of jasmine and honey, to pour into the egg after they finished decorating it and sealed the hole with a tiny dab of putty. Shay carefully arranged the eggs to dry on some sort of beaker holder that she openly admitted to ‘borrowing’ from the biology lab. Keith couldn't believe he'd fallen in with such a group of reprobates. Pidge opened a small bag next to the planter that she had lugged outside on a wheelbarrow earlier and everyone took that as their cue to stand. Allura reached out a hand to Keith, gesturing for him to rise as well. Pidge passed the bag around after taking something out of it for herself and nodded when the bag came to Keith. He removed a small seed of some kind.   
  
“Now that everyone has had a chance to think about and discuss the new ideas we are planting, we shall also sow these seeds in real life, to bring harmony of the material world and the spiritual one.”  
  
Individually, everyone stepped forward, made a small space in the dirt for their seed, covered it up carefully, and used a small amount of water from the altar goblet to help their seed grow. He peered down at the side of the planter where Pidge had labeled it as Cherry Tomatoes. Keith smiled. He didn’t like tomatoes, personally, but he would absolutely eat one if he knew that it had come from a seed he’d planted with his own two hands. Pidge was right; in a time when most people weren’t occupational farmers, the novelty of contributing to a life in any way was really something special.   
  
“Once you have finished, plant your feet on the ground and take a stance with your feet slightly wider than your shoulders. This is a process called grounding. Close your eyes and visualize roots extending from the soles of your feet, growing directly into the ground and holding you steady so no storms or gales may knock you over. Breathe, in and out. Inhale. Exhale. When you are ready, stretch out your arms to your sides. These are your branches blossoming wide up to the sky. We say as above, so below. You are one with the sky and world above. You are one with the ground and world below.”  
  
Keith obeyed, turning slightly so that his outstretched arms wouldn’t impede anyone else’s branches. He felt silly for a second, but complied with the instructions, steadying his breath and letting his mind wander. He turned his palms up, enjoying the sun on his face and the breeze ruffling his hair. The grass under his feet bristled and he wiggled his toes and murmured the words Allura had said, tasting the peace they offered on his tongue. It quenched a thirst in his soul that he hadn’t been properly aware of.   
  
“As above, so below.”  
  
Later, when everyone, had come back to themselves and opened the circle, they enjoyed the hearty picnic that Hunk and Shay had prepared for them. The pair shyly revealed that Hunk had finally asked Shay out a few days prior and Allura clapped excitedly. She and Lance busied themselves immediately with weaving daisy crowns from the sparse clumps of flowers they could find, recruiting a reluctant Pidge and Keith to find more flowers so everyone could have crowns when Shay protested the individual treatment. Keith allowed Lance to make a flower crown for him, and put it on briefly, but he drew the line at selfies. He thought Pidge might have snuck in a picture of him, but he didn’t turn around fast enough to catch her and she innocently denied everything. He kept an eye on her and decided that he’d just hold the crown in his lap, playing with the soft petals of the…whatever type of flower. Hunk and Shay had packed delicious egg-salad sandwiches and deviled eggs, fresh apples, and honey.They spent time enjoying the sun and delicious food, running around the grass and breaking into a game of freeze tag. A childish desire to frolic in the fields, reveling in the light triumphing over the dark. Breathless, Keith couldn’t stop the goofy grin on his face, even if he’d wanted to. The afternoon melted away in a haze of full bellies and tingling sunburns, the sound of laughter ringing in everyone’s ears. Keith never wanted it to end.   
  
Unfortunately, Shiro was off at a training bootcamp of some kind, Keith hadn’t been paying attention to that part, during spring break, so Keith stayed on campus. He only met with Allura once during the holiday, spending most of the time catching up on sleep and a few tv shows he’d been missing out on. Allura gave him a sachet, pungently smelling of lavender, with a couple of feathers poking out the top, as a parting gift from her mentoring. She explained that the lavender was to help him sleep at night and worked like a dream catcher, allowing him to better remember good dreams and filter out the bad ones. When he wondered why it didn’t _look_ like a typical dream catcher, Allura sniffed and reminded Keith that she was neither a Native American nor a racist. Keith didn’t bring the subject up again. Instead, he invited her to have a low-key hang out movie watching session which she happily agreed to. To his great surprise, having expected to be subjected to political dramas or romantic comedies, her preferred genre was British Mysteries, which Keith wasn’t opposed to. In fact, he ended up quite enjoying the series Endeavour that Allura recommended and, after he went back to his room for the night, proceeded to binge watch the entire show for the rest of the break.


	6. Chapter 6

“Right. So, this is the part where I show you my altar and tell you my different magick specialties?”  
  
Keith nodded, glancing confusedly around Lance’s room. He’d been there more than a couple times for study sessions with Lance for their astronomy class and, (he’d never admit anything of the sort), every time Lance excused himself to the bathroom, Keith had inspected the room very closely for more clues about the guy. Fine, yes, Keith wasn’t too man to admit, privately, that he had a crush on Lance. But, even if he didn’t, Keith’s natural curiosity about the people he spent time with would have motivated the close inspections. In any case, he’d never come across anything that even remotely resembled an altar. As if in answer to the unspoken question, Lance dragged a box out from under his bed and opened it carefully, setting it out between them.   
  
“Blayz, uh my roommate, well, I don’t know that he’d have a problem with my Wicca stuff, but some of it is sort of…weird for people here and I don’t want to take a chance with someone I have to live with. My last roommate was pretty, uh, judgmental about some of my things and ended up reporting me to the dean and I had to deal with all of _that_ bullshit last year.”  
  
Keith scoffed.  
  
“Asshole. What happened? There’s no way the dean could do anything, right? Freedom of religion and all that.”  
  
Lance smiled crookedly.  
  
“Well, it was a big hassle and I had to show the dean my stuff and explain what it was, but you’re right. Legally, there wasn’t anything he could do. The dean was actually pretty understanding about it; I think the only reason he looked into it at all is that Lotor accused me of practicing traditional Santeria.”  
  
Keith’s face screwed up into a snarl.  
  
“Ugh, _Lotor._ Fuck, you had to room with that shit?”  
  
Lance shrugged dismissively, his expression mirroring Keith’s general dislike of the other man. Then, Keith paused.  
  
“Wait, why would traditional Santeria be a problem?”  
  
Lance cocked his head to the side inquisitively.  
  
“You…don’t know what Santeria is, do you?”  
  
“I heard the song that starts out: I don’t practice Santeria/I ain’t got no crystal ball.”  
  
Keith hesitantly sang the first two lines and Lance laughed cheerfully.  
  
“Eh, there’s some controversy surrounding it because some practitioners kill chickens as part of their rituals. Obviously, I don’t do that and, even if I wanted to, it’d be impossible to do on school grounds. Not to mention the fact that I think it is constitutional to sacrifice privately owned animals for religious purposes. But, that’s why I don’t have an altar on display.”  
  
“Why would Lotor say you practiced Santeria? That’s sort of a random thing to accuse someone of.”  
  
Lance rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.  
  
“Not exactly. For a while, Lotor wasn’t-well, okay, he was always a dick, but I wanted to try and make nice with my roommate. So we talked about our families and stuff, side bar: turns out his is _super fucked up,_ but one of the things I mentioned is that my family practices Santeria. That’s not weird in Cuba and I didn’t think twice about saying it. Actually, my patron deity is Osumare, who is a Yoruba god. See, we’re from Cuba and my family has lived there for some generations, but a bunch of my ancestors are actually from Africa and interbred with the Cuban locals. Basically, it means that we have a lot of mixed up traditions that we pass down from parents to children. So Osumare is an Oricha, which is a deity that’s part of a religion that originated in West Africa and came to the Caribbean.”  
  
Keith rushed to start a new entry on his phone for the history lesson. Lance laughed lightly.  
  
“You don’t need to know all of this for Wicca, I just thought it would help you understand what I’m bringing to the table. For example, when I pray, I do it in Lucumi, which is a language which is a derivation of Yoruba, what the West Africans originally spoke, but with Spanish pronunciation and inflection. Not even exactly a language, but I was taught that it is the sacred language of the oricha, the gods. It was part of what I learned to become a man of my family.”  
  
Lance puffed his chest out proudly, opening the box and lifting out individual items inside. Each one he handed to Keith for a closer look and Keith handled each thing with the greatest care, placing them on Lance’s bed when he was ready to see the next one.  
  
“This is really cool; in preparation for becoming a man, I was given instructions to find a ‘worthy material’ and carve something in honor of an oricha. Luckily for me, I’d gone out with my brothers and sister about a week before and found a really awesome chunk of meteorite nearby. I hiked out there and hacked off a chunk to carve out this snake to honor Osumare, who I already felt a kinship with. He’s the oricha of rainbows, snakes, and fertility, but something about him just feels right.”  
  
Lance handed over a tiny arrow made from iron that a relative had given him upon gaining entrance to manhood, a chalice with a rooster carved on the side that actually belonged to Lance’s mom, but she loaned him, a small set of drums, a rolled up painting of the moon, an entire snake skeleton minus the head, and an enormous collection of seashells. Lance explained that he brought out the drums for Beltane each year to play with the coven and Keith excitedly made a note of that. The seashells, Lance sheepishly murmured, were less of a religious thing and more of a way for him to remember Cuba and his family. Keith’s heart panged in sympathy at the faraway cast Lance’s face took when he talked about his family and Keith could see just how homesick he was. Wanting to relieve some of that sadness, Keith asked Lance to elaborate on what else he’d done to become a man with his family. Lance lit up proudly and delved right into the story, hands happily gesticulating. Keith smiled in response, glad that he could find the right words for once.  
  
“There’s other things you use to honor the gods in Santeria, so you also have to have a pretty elaborate set up. When I became a man, we decorated, like, the whole main living space. Shoved the tv up to the wall and the couch out of the way, just so that everyone could fit in there and wouldn’t be tripping over the offerings. Stuff like white chickens, eggs, rice, milk, cotton…now that I think about it, it seems like the gods usually ask for sacrifices based on what are most important to the people who are worshiping them. So, stuff our ancestors thought was important I guess. Anyway, the way my family does it is that uh, wait. Okay, let me give some background: in order to be a priest or priestess in Santeria, you have to go through an initiation set of rituals. My family, and some others in our neighborhood too, uses the first three rituals for the becoming a man process. That’s not the right name for it either, we just call it that, because my sister went through the same process, but whatever. So there’s, you know, cleansing and all that, but the first thing is receiving a necklace with colors based on your oricha. This is mine.”  
  
Lance pulled down the neckline of his shirt to show off a necklace with variously colored beads, apparently carved from some kind of stone. The two in the center were the largest and clacked together when Lance swung them forward, dull, unpolished red and blue stones. At Lance’s permissive smile, Keith leaned over to gently touch them, running his fingers lightly over the necklace with awe. Lance grinned and puffed out his chest proudly. The beads were warm in Keith’s hand and he blushed when he realized that they’d soaked in Lance’s body heat. Lance’s grin grew crooked, as if he’d guessed Keith’s thoughts.   
  
“I wear it almost all the time. Girls have to take it off during their period, and everyone has to take it off while bathing, or, uh, having intimate relations.”  
  
Keith raised an eyebrow at Lance’s wording and responded dryly.  
  
“Don’t beat around the bush just for the sake of my delicate sensibilities.”  
  
Lance bounced his eyebrows suggestively and Keith rolled his eyes.  
  
“Fine. You gotta take it off when you’re _beating the bush._ ”  
  
Keith huffed and suppressed a smile.  
  
“After the necklace and the head-washing that accompanies it, I had a meeting with the, uh, priest equivalent guy. To determine the paths in my life and my religion. That was when I carved the meteorite into the snake, which keeps away evil spirits. Then I received gifts from my family, like the iron arrow, to represent other, important orichas. There’s formal versions of those rituals to become a Santero, a priest, but it’s not like that. My neighborhood in Varadero just uses modified rituals for kids coming into their own. They’re really important to me, my whole family, since they’ve been passed down so many generations. It’s something to keep me connected, even when I’m far from home.”  
  
Lance trailed off, rubbing a thumb thoughtfully over the iron arrow. Keith felt an urge to distract him; anything to wipe that sad longing look off his face.   
  
“What are your other specialties? Don’t get me wrong; the stuff about your family is super cool. But Pidge also mentioned something about bone throwing, I think? Was that a weird metaphor for sex or…?”  
  
Lance laughed and focused his attention back on Keith. Keith knew perfectly well about fortune telling via ‘throwing the bones’, but if his stab at idiocy made Lance smile then he’d be a fool forever. Lance spent awhile explaining the intricacies of bone throwing and how he also enjoyed water based magick, scrying and cleansing rituals, and helped Allura chart the progress of the moon.   
  
“Not exactly on her level, though. I don’t know when the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars or if that’s when peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars. But it’s still handy to know if the moon is waxing or waning depending on what you want to achieve with a spell.”  
  
Keith nodded and took careful notes as Lance explained how every month’s moon had a different name, although sometimes they got confusing since different paths of polytheists had separate names, and that April’s moon, according to Lance, was called the Pink Moon. They spent the rest of their time in relative peace, managing to get some astronomy studying done as well. In fact, Keith deemed it such a success that he didn’t think twice about accepting Lance’s next offer to hang out, (not that he would have actually refused), and his anxiety about spending time with Lance only began to spike when they went down to the parking lot. Keith obediently climbed into Lance’s car at his invitation, but wasn’t able to predict their destination. His eyebrows had nearly merged with his hairline when they finally came to a stop: Animals First Care Center.   
  
“Remember how I mentioned that I’m pretty into animal magick?”  
  
Keith did not remember Lance mentioning that, but he didn’t say so.  
  
“Weeeeeellllll, actually it’s mostly that I volunteer here sometimes. When I can, with school and everything. But, I’m allowed to bring guests, as long as they’re adults and I vouch for them, so I thought we could try and connect with some of our four-legged friends inside?”  
  
“As if I’d say no to that. What kind of monster says they don’t want to hang out with cute animals?”  
  
Lance smiled congenially and led them both into the shelter, explaining the situation to the woman at the front desk and blushing a little as she cooed at the pair of them. Keith had to sign a couple of forms; he wouldn’t sue if hurt by an animal and he wouldn’t presses charges, etc. By the time they finally got back to the dog section, Keith was itching to pet some canines. They spent a few hours, individually letting out various dogs and walking them around the large outdoor area and cleaning up after the dogs did their business. One dog in particular, named Kosmo of all things, really caught Keith’s attention. It was a giant wolf hybrid, or so he guessed, (Lance looked at Kosmo’s information card, but it just said that the dog had been found a few weeks ago and declared abandoned, but healthy and neutered, a few days prior). When Kosmo went to investigate Shirley, the miniature dachshund Lance was walking, Kosmo wagged his tail happily and romped around, very careful to not injure or step on his small companion. Keith grinned at the sight and his heart melted. He tried to give equal attention to all of the dogs, but couldn’t help stealing one more petting session with Kosmo before he left, whining good-naturedly to Lance that he wanted to bring Kosmo home with them. Lance laughed sympathetically.  
  
“Yeah, that’s definitely the worst part working here: you want to take all of them home. I doubt you’d be able to smuggle in a dog anyway and that guy is huge! No way the RA wouldn’t notice Kosmo.”  
  
Keith pouted, looking back at the shelter doors again. Lance poked him in the arm as they clambered into the car.  
  
“Tell you what; you can come with me in the future and see Kosmo again?”  
“But what if he’s gone by then?”  
  
Lance gave him a stern look.  
  
“Then that’s a _good_ thing because it means someone also loves Kosmo and has a home they can share with him.”  
  
Keith sighed, only slightly abashed.   
  
“This place is really nice and I’m glad you brought me here. How did you find it in the first place?”  
  
Keith expected Lance to laugh and regale him with some story about how his siblings used to volunteer at a shelter, or how his family had a bunch of pets and being around all the dogs here helped him be a little less homesick. What he didn’t expect was for Lance to suddenly become very quiet and still, hardly even seeming to move. Keith waited, unsure as to the cause and whether it was more socially acceptable for him to keep talking and gloss over the awkward pause in conversation or to ask Lance about it. While he debated with himself, Lance managed to recover, tossing a few strands of hair out of his eyes.  
  
“My, uh. My therapist recommended this place. And volunteering here.”  
  
Keith tried to school his expression into a neutral one and not blatant surprise, but Lance saw through the attempt and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Yeah. Shocking, right? The coolest guy you’ll ever meet, Lancey-Lance, has to pay someone to listen to me expound upon about my myriad problems that are oh so _terrible-“_  
  
“It’s fine, Lance.”  
  
Keith cut him off and Lance stared at him for a second, wilting.   
  
“Oh. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”  
  
Keith’s shoulders hunched in response and he hastened to clarify.  
  
“No-wait. It’s not that I don’t want to hear you. I do. I just meant, it’s fine to have a therapist. I don’t think less of you for it.”  
  
“Because you don’t think very highly of me in the first place?”  
  
“What? No! Why would you think that?”  
  
Lance held up his hands placatingly.  
  
“Relax, man. It was a joke. It’s a reflex of mine, you know, when the topic gets heavy and personal, I gotta get that humor as a defense mechanism thing going. Otherwise, it’s too much for me.”  
  
Keith uncurled his hands where they’d been clenched around his shirt hem. He inhaled slowly, trying to think before he spoke next.   
  
“Well, if it’s helping you, then there shouldn’t be a problem. Doctors exist to help people. So you’re being helped. So what?”  
  
Lance let loose something that began as a high-pitched cackle and quickly dissolved into a choked sob. Keith politely averted his eyes, unsure if recognizing Lance’s tears out loud would make everything worse. He thought about old-fashioned ponces who carried handkerchiefs in their breast pockets for just that kind of occasion and vaguely wished he could do the same. It might cheer Lance up, if nothing else. Lance heaved in a few breaths, blinking at the battered roof of his car.  
  
“I don’t-God, it’s dumb, Keith. Everything is all in my mind! It’s just me, sabotaging myself. I don’t even have _real_ problems, not compared to someone like you.”  
  
“Thanks for that, man.”  
  
Keith snorted at the horrified expression Lance made. Keith grinned wryly at him and Lance scrubbed his face hard, shooting Keith a forced, lopsided smile. Lance took a deep breath and haltingly explained.  
  
“Everything started being really, hard?, I guess, more like impossible, if I’m being honest. Around when I came to school here. It wasn’t anything I could pinpoint specifically, and I think that’s why it was so hard for me to accept that I was having problems. Because there wasn’t any _one thing._ My professors are fine, the section leads are helpful, most of my classes are subjects I enjoy or am good at. Well, last year was a lot of freshman requirements, but this semester I’ve been taking an intro to archaeology class that’s been pretty interesting and I loved that Chinese Culture and Civilization class last semester. But, obviously, classes are a lot harder now and there’s less accountability, not to mention my family is so far away and I _really_ miss them; we’re super close. And then when you ended up being interested in Wicca and, like, joined us, it just all crashed down on me. I barely even got a chance to come to grips with you, the guy who’d effortlessly beaten me in the most important class of freshman year, only to drop out, the guy who’d turned down my multiple attempts at friendship…like… _shit._ ”  
  
Keith winced, not bothering to be subtle with his own emotions at the rant.  
  
“And _then!_ It turns out Allura’s been mad at me for years?! I had no idea how much everything had actually hurt her. So, I was jealous, and angry and guilty, all on top of missing my family and being depressed and worried about my declining grades…it was too much. Everything was just too much. Not to mention the guilt I _already_ felt cutting out my friends before all of that. I couldn’t deal, you know? Well, maybe you don’t. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? I just expect people to understand what’s happening without telling them. It’s selfish and unrealistic. How could anyone know how to help me if I never say what’s on my mind? Fuck, I’m just as bad as Allura.”  
  
“That’s…not the same thing. I don’t think. Unless you resented people for not helping you the way you wanted?”  
  
“Yeah, maybe that was part of it too. Hunk finally got through to me; had to ambush me with my family on a Skype call and Jesus, if that wasn’t one of the worst parts of all of this shit…but honestly? I’m glad he did it. Things are…better, now. But, I still can’t help feeling sometimes like I really am the overdramatic, whiny Lance that Pidge always makes me out to be. It seems like everyone else has real problems and I’m here _crying in a car_ over missing my mom and not getting the highest grade in a class? Like, damn, get it together, I got no right to complain.”  
  
Nope, no way. Keith held up a hand to pause Lance, wanting to firmly disabuse that notion right the fuck out of his brain.  
  
“You’re wrong. It doesn’t matter what the issues are, you have a right to feel things. And if your feelings are affecting your life, negatively, then you have just as much of a right to get help as anyone else does. Pidge may be a genius in a lot of ways, but when it comes to the inner emotional workings of another person’s mind? She’s dumb as a rock if she thinks you aren’t doing anything and are just wallowing in your own helplessness. It took some time, but you’re getting help. You have to find what works for _Lance,_ not Pidge, or Hunk, or even your family. Therapists exist for a reason, man. It’s because they work. Those people are trained professionals and have way more experience coming up with strategies and solutions for problems than any of us. The whole reason they’re here is to make peoples’ lives easier.”  
  
Lance shrugged in a non-committal manner. Keith ignored him and pressed on.  
  
“There’s no shame in seeing a professional for a _medical_ condition that is impacting your life. It’s just like going to class and learning from a teacher. If we already knew everything, we wouldn’t need to learn anything, right?”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
“So, what I’m trying to say is: does it help you, Lance?”  
  
Lance chuckled quietly, a slight twinge of hysteria audible, his eyes red and watery.   
  
“Yeah. It’s funny, or it isn’t really I guess, but one thing in particular Dr. Thursday, that’s my therapist by the way, he said something that really _resonated_ with me. Have you ever heard something, maybe in the middle of a speech or part of a dumb anecdote, probably not even said with much emphasis, but it gave you the shivers? And you remember the exact tone of the phrase long after the fact because every time you get the chills?”  
  
Keith wasn’t sure he’d ever heard something that would make him react so viscerally, but he thought he understood well enough. Shiro and his father had both given Keith his fair share of good advice over the years and he’d seen the tv shows with the ancient monks, often in racist depictions, imparting sage words that only made sense with context. He wondered if seeing a psychiatrist was like going to a priest.   
  
“Dr. Thursday gave me some advice like that. He said ‘Find something. Anything. Doesn’t matter what. But find something outside of your own mind that you love and hold on to it with all your might. Hold on to it and protect it, and while you do, instead of worrying about the future or regretting the past, just surround yourself in the present and, in every moment, focus on loving that which the darkness could _not_ take from you.”  
  
Lance sniffled and his face contorted into the strangest combination of awe and sadness that Keith had ever seen. Lance swiped at his nose impatiently and Keith could see the goosebumps on Lance’s shoulders. He carefully reached out and rubbed Lance’s shoulder a few times, not wanting to overstep his bounds, but unable to watch Lance snuffle through his adoration of a doctor’s casual eloquence with expressing his own sympathies.  
  
“That’s really good advice. For anyone, I’d think, but I don’t think it was a throwaway comment. He’s been trained, professionally, to understand how to help people, like I said. I’m so happy he’s helping you, Lance, I really am. I can’t offer anything like what he can, but I’m always here to listen. I won’t say ‘I know how you feel’ or anything-“  
  
“You might.”  
  
Lance interrupted, barely audible. Keith waited for him to clarify, but Lance said nothing more. No matter how Keith tried to nudge the conversation on, Lance ignored him and brushed the whole thing off, stating that he was tired. When he asked if they could head back and just stop at a Jack N The Box on the way home, instead of sitting down somewhere, Keith quickly agreed. Disappointed, but unwilling to force Lance much farther out of his comfort zone, Keith settled into a not-quite-easy silence on the drive back. Before they parted ways, Keith leaned over towards the driver’s seat, stopping Lance from undoing his seatbelt. At Lance’s confusion, Keith gently cupped Lance’s chin and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, stretching up to accommodate the strange angle. When he sat back, Lance stared at Keith, facial expression unnervingly blank. Keith fidgeted and was halfway to starting in on an apology when Lance finally broke into a smile. He ruffled Keith’s hair affectionately and they went their separate ways. If Keith’s heart beat a bit faster than normal, then that was something that was for him to know and Lance to not.   
  
As April came to a close, Keith found himself listening to Lance’s explanation of Beltane as he pushed the cart around the grocery store. Lance had the list of food Hunk needed and they were slowly, but surely, filling the cart. Keith had grumbled the day before when Hunk had called him up and asked him to retrieve some last minute food Saturday morning, but had brightened significantly when Hunk had added (too forced to be casual, like somehow he _knew_ what Lance’s presence did for Keith), that Lance would accompany him. Even if Lance hadn’t come along, Hunk knew Keith wouldn’t turn down his request; Keith had become yet another person who constantly craved Hunk’s delicious cooking and would do anything to facilitate.   
  
“It was pretty common in ye olden days for people to get married at Beltane, or May Day, because it has always been a celebration of fertility, light, and love. Even the most stubborn of plants have bloomed by then and in, like, Britain, they would light big old bonfires to celebrate the fact that days were long and they could bring their animals out to pasture for grazing and stuff.”  
  
Keith exhaled through his nose and resisted the urge to tell Lance that ye olde was never a thing; it was just some stupid readers of modern English misreading the thorn, a letter indicating the ‘th’ sound but no longer in the alphabet, as a ‘y’. It was always ‘the’. Somehow, though, he figured Lance wouldn’t appreciate the interruption.   
  
“I remember Allura telling me that some ancient text on Beltane was about people lighting two giant fires and making their cows walk between them to bless them. That seemed kinda…mean. But, considering how much farmers rely on their cows, I’m sure they didn’t hurt them or anything! Actually, some witches who get married around Beltane incorporate holding hands and jumping over a tiny fire into the wedding ceremony, or so I’ve heard. Even the smoke of fires lit for Beltane is supposed to be magick and enhance your vitality or promote growth. Our coven, and most witches, see Beltane as a time when the Horned Lord of the Sun has matured and become a man, with all of the, ah, lusty inclinations that come along with that.”  
  
Lance lowered his voice and leaned closer to Keith, their shoulders brushing as they turned down the spice aisle. Keith turned his head obligingly, although he _seriously_ doubted that anyone in Major Market was eavesdropping on their conversation.  
  
“He impregnates the Lady of the Moon, who, at this time of year, is at the cusp of transitioning from maiden to mother.”  
  
Keith nodded sagely, having already known the information from his own research, but relishing the discomfort written on Lance’s face as he blurted out the information, blushed and quickly turned away to inspect some nearby jars of cinnamon sticks and cloves. Keith finally took pity, knocking their shoulders together once more.   
  
“You can elaborate on the way back.”  
  
“There’s nothing to elaborate! I mean, not on that part.”  
  
“Oh really? I thought I read something about ancient Roman festivals involving hiring prostitutes and performing strip teases. You sure you don’t have anything else to say about that?”  
  
Lance whined, blush deepening and still refusing to make eye contact. Keith laughed and then laughed harder at the offended look Lance threw him. They finished up at the store and Lance continued to give Keith the silent treatment until they had unloaded all of the groceries at Allura’s house where Hunk was already busy with preparations. He bustled around the kitchen with a flustered Allura in tow and an amused Pidge who sat on a counter, contributing snide remarks every so often when she glanced up from her laptop. Keith offered to relieve Allura, but she shook her head firmly, saying she needed the practice and he and Lance ought to start packing up the necessary altar items so they could head out to the park as soon as the food was ready. Lance finally broke the silence by playfully shoulder checking Keith and they bantered easily while they collected the seemingly infinitely long ribbons they’d wrap around their designated ‘May pole’. Pidge came in to see if they needed any help and rolled her eyes at the sight of them wrestling, Lance tugging on Keith’s hair in disgust while Keith tried to smother Lance with the palm of his hand.  
  
Somehow, Allura and Shay managed to wrangle everyone to the park once Hunk had finished fretting over the exact consistency of the berries and cream. On the way out of Allura’s house, arms heavily laden with multitudes of candles and ribbons, Keith noticed a small saucer of something that looked suspiciously similar to Hunk’s cream near her doorstep. At his inquiring look, Allura shrugged and explained that it was an offering for the fey folk, since Beltane was like Samhain in that the veil between worlds was thin and the beginning of summer often inspired mischief. Lance was pretty caught up in the mischievous atmosphere as well, running off almost as soon as they reached the park and challenging Keith immediately to a contest.  
  
“Wanna see how fast I can climb this tree?”  
  
“Lance! Don’t you remember what happened last time? Get back over here and help us!”  
  
Lance grumbled and huffed as he trudged back over to the group, grabbing a picnic blanket and fluffing it aggressively, but even he couldn’t keep up the pout for long. The nearly exuberant attitude permeated the air and the entire coven was feeling its effects. He saw Allura coughing in a poor attempt to get her giggles under control and he _certainly_ didn’t miss the flirty looks Shay threw Hunk, or the dark flush riding high on his broad cheeks. She whispered something to him on one of the trips to their picnic spot beneath a wide tree that made him stumble and almost drop his precious lemon chicken roast and Keith decided to intervene on behalf of the food, swiping the dishes from Hunk’s careless hands and making doubly sure everything is untouched and _not_ about to hit the ground after all the hard work. When all of the food was safe and sound, (Keith checked again, ostensibly to make sure, but also to try some of the fresh strawberries), Allura called for everyone to gather around where the circle would be cast. On their meandering way over, Pidge leaned down to inspect a nearby flower, but stood up quickly with a yelp. She swiped at her hair, errant blades of grass sailing through the air. She glared around at everyone and Shay’s fingers twitched in amusement and pride in her prank. Keith grinned broadly and messed up Pidge’s hair further. She swatted at him before putting her nose up and haughtily marching over to her spot. Allura cleared her throat again and didn’t bother pointing out the remaining grass adorning Pidge, instead gesturing at Hunk to begin.  
  
“May the plants of the earth, flourishing in the fresh morning dew, imbue us with growth and health so we stay youthful and new.”  
  
“May the air fuel our dreams, you whose effort never wanes, that we might draw blessed breath again and again.”  
  
“May the fire, shining brightly ever on, whose warmth never ends and light never ceases, enlighten us, burning out all of our shadows and creases.”  
  
“May the stream of life everlasting energize our beds and our cups, that we may slake our thirsts in this casting.”  
  
Keith raised his eyebrows in surprise, quirking his lips at Lance’s choice of words. They seemed more…suggestive than the normal script and he wondered if those were really the words of another ritual or if he wrote them; if everyone wrote their own lines for rituals. Allura continued the invocation to the deities.  
  
“Great sun, fuel and energy of Earth, lay down the seeds that will blossom within us. Great moon, as you move the sea, so too move us and give our future dreams birth.”  
  
The corners called, Allura nodded firmly and retrieved a small bell, walking around their circle two times, clockwise and counterclockwise. Keith’s brow furrowed when he noticed that no one had lit the candles for their directions, but shrugged it off. He figured that they knew what they were doing and it was unlikely that all of them had forgotten something usually so crucial. The tinkling of the bell interrupted his thoughts before he could dwell on the significance. When Allura had finished the second walk around, Shay and Pidge stepped forward, raising the wands they had placed at their feet. They brought the wands in front to lightly touch and form an X with each other. They tapped the wooden wands twice, chanting:  
  
“Scepter to scepter we welcome the energies of the Great God, the active principle, the seed, and the animus.”  
  
No sooner had they finished speaking, but Lance and Hunk had picked up their cups, stepping in close to the girls. They carefully poured the small amount of water back and forth between their cups, neither managing to fully suppress their smiles when Lance fumbled and some water went awry. Nevertheless, they managed to say in unison:  
  
“Chalice to chalice, we welcome the energies of the Great Goddess, the subtle principle, the nurturer, the womb, and the anima.”  
  
They held their chalices steady as Pidge plunged her wand into Hunk’s cup and Shay did the same for Lance. Both girls twirled their wands, gently swirling the water inside three times. Allura approached and motioned for Keith to as well. Hesitantly, he stood shoulder to shoulder with Pidge and Hunk, glancing down at the scepters and chalices. Everyone murmured the next line, though Keith just nodded along.  
  
“Scepter to cup, we acknowledge the sacredness of all creation we welcome love and light in all its multiple and many forms.”  
  
Everyone stepped back to their original spots and Keith nearly tripped over himself trying to walk backwards in unison with them. Lance saw his misstep and winked saucily at him, much to Keith’s dismay. He frowned heavily, not wanting to distract anyone from the ritual. Allura proceeded to walk around the circle, again beginning with Hunk, but this time she touched some kind of oil on each person’s palms, wrists, chest, and forehead, leaving behind a slight sheen that glinted in the sunlight. To his surprise, she stopped at Keith and gave him oil as well, whispering as she did so.  
  
“You are love. You are beautiful and you are loved.”  
  
His heart swelled and he gulped, not wanting to attract excess attention. He always got so _emotional_ during rituals; maybe it was the magick in the air they called on or generated with their own energies mixing, but Keith had a feeling that it was more down to the genuine empathy the coven offered and that their acceptance would never lose its novelty. When Allura’s circle had ended, Lance anointed her, whispering back the same words. Smiling serenely, she led everyone to walk widdershins three times. Keith took his cues from Hunk beside him so when Hunk reached the original position and stopped walking, Keith did as well. Allura intoned over all of them.  
  
“By the Beltane fire we empower our desire with creation, with inspiration. By the powers here that be we manifest all that we see and all that might someday be. Our light draws love and love draws in light that we may all be lit by each other’s love tonight.”  
  
Allura finally bent down and struck a match, lighting her large, pink candle. Following suit, each person grabbed their element’s candle and, in turn, approached Allura and lit their wicks from her flame. For lighting of the candles, Lance began the lighting and when he came back to his point, he sat down gingerly, balancing the candle between delicate hands. He rested the candle on the small plates they’d brought for the purpose and closed his eyes, his chest expanding rhythmically. Keith found Beltane’s meditation more difficult than the previous ones, constantly twitching or needing to scratch an itch. Peeking one eye open, it didn’t seem like anyone was doing much better. He scrunched his face up, trying to find his inner calm. He wondered how Lance, normally so jittery, managed to keep his cool during meditation. _Deep breaths, think of Lance, the way he inhaled and exhaled, heart slow and steady, hands folded, long, delicate fingers half bent and in his lap, resting on his long, tanned legs, legs that Keith would give anything to have bare before him, to smooth his hands over soft, silky skin and-_  
  
Keith shook his head violently, hair whipping him in the face. He couldn’t fight down the flush on his cheeks, heart pounding. The flirty atmosphere of the ritual was getting to him; he needed to calm the fuck down. Luckily, everyone else finished, (or gave up on), their meditations around the same time, with only Pidge leveling him with a shrewd gaze. He shrugged helplessly.   
  
“Please stand and take each other’s hands.”  
  
Keith was proud that his legs didn’t wobble at all.   
  
“By love by fire by you by me by Goddess and God what we will so mote it be!”  
  
“So mote it be!”  
  
The whole coven overflowed with love and friskiness, squeezing hands, hugging, and even planting some chaste pecks on other’s foreheads and cheeks. Shay and Hunk shared a short, sweet kiss and were wolf-whistled at. Allura kissed everyone’s cheeks and Lance surprised Keith with a butterfly kiss. When he turned and grabbed Pidge to give her the same treatment, she struggled inefficiently in his grip.  
  
“You just want any excuse to bat your eyelashes.”  
  
“Hell yeah, I do!”  
  
With the opening of the circle, the raucous vibe of wild abandon they’d all been keeping at bay was let loose, Shay doing some cartwheels in the grass. Pidge giggled merrily and skipped around, collecting flowers and weeds alike while Lance and Hunk danced arm in arm. Allura broke out a few hula hoops and only Keith was shocked. When they’d exhausted some of their exuberance, they sat down to Hunk’s meal, Allura gushing about the rosemary and garlic asparagus. Keith thought it was good, but he wasn’t on his third serving like she was. Hunk whispered conspiratorially:  
  
“It’s the only time she’s actually excited to eat green vegetables.”  
  
Finally stuffed and sweating lightly in the heat of the day, Shay rummaged around in her bag and retrieved a long, pure white sheet and a flower crown. Pidge passed out a combination of the flowers she’d found earlier and bags of rose petals to everyone, nudging Keith when she handed him his share.   
  
“Follow our lead.”  
  
Keith blinked and nodded hesitantly, unsure as to the purpose. Meanwhile, Lance had sat up and started furiously combing his hair and fixing his appearance, strutting around the group. Pidge and Hunk groaned, but Shay only smiled as she draped the sheet over Lance, pinning it at his shoulder like an old Roman toga. Allura set the flower crown atop Lance’s head and solemnly intoned.  
  
“As the fairest maiden in the land, I designate you, Lance, as May Queen.”  
  
Hunk and Pidge promptly showered Lance with flowers and rose petals so Keith hurried to do the same. Lance preened under the attention. He continued to flaunt his good looks even as everyone else began to get out the brightly colored ribbons Keith had packed before. They tied the ends to the pin at Lance’s shoulder and he held his arms out as they all skipped around him, wrapping and braiding their ribbons around his torso. Keith’s chest heaved from the exertion and laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. Lance generously twirled around and ended up a very congenial May pole.   
  
Keith had been looking forward to Lance throwing the bones for the entire ritual and by the time everyone had finished running around and dancing to their hearts’ content and had thrown themselves to the ground in a contented heap, Keith was _more_ than ready to see something cool. Lance looked totally ridiculous, rolling the contents of the leather pouch he’d fished out between his hands with eyes closed and a serious expression on his face. The juxtaposition of his face and the May Queen sheet, (in need of some laundering, if the grass stains were anything to go by), and the insane number of ribbons still wrapped around his torso was too good to pass up and Keith silently withdrew his phone, snapping a couple of photos. Lance finally shook the pouch and dumped the bones on the ground. Keith felt a twinge of disappointment; it wasn’t really throwing the bones so much as it was letting them fall to the ground. His eyes darted between Lance and the bones, trying to puzzle out the meaning, or, honestly, any discernible pattern. He saw none. Lance frowned.  
  
“That’s weird…”  
  
He collected the bones, jangled the bag, and released them once more. It seemed like they fell in different positions, but Lance’s expression only grew more troubled. He poked one of the bones petulantly, before picking them up and repeating the process, nearly glaring at whatever result he had gotten. After two more tries and he sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped.   
  
“Something’s wrong. I don’t know what, but it’s not happening. They don’t want to be divined today.”  
  
Shay smiled kindly at him, patting his arm when Lance continued to pout.   
  
“Do not fret. All types of divination are finicky by nature. Usually, it is a matter of resolving the conflict within yourself. Once you have a clear goal in your mind, the bones will want to be thrown again.”  
  
Lance nodded, apologizing again to everyone. Pidge distracted him by finding all of the rose petals from earlier and showering them upon Lance once more, declaring the May Queen to be the fairest maiden in all the lands, far and wide, in the driest monotone Keith had ever heard. He barked out a laugh and Lance took advantage of it easily enough, batting his eyelashes and demanding that everyone should find appropriate palm fronds and fan him. Hunk objected and Lance relented, saying that Hunk could simply feed him grapes in the most ostentatious manner possible. They gave it their best shot with the berries, bending backwards into increasingly improbable positions until they tumbled into a big heap, laughing the entire time. Somehow, the berries ended up mashed into the white sheet and Shay exclaimed over the red stains, thinking Lance was bleeding. Keith didn’t hesitate to join in the fun and they spent a lovely afternoon outside, alternating between frolicking like little kids or basking in the sunshine.   
  
A few days later, Lance invited Keith to come over the actual night of Beltane. It was a Wednesday and they were the only two of the coven who weren’t busy with something. Lance assured him that his roommate always spent Wednesday nights at his girlfriends’ so they wouldn’t have to worry about any interruptions. A freshly showered Keith wore a casual shirt and sweatpants, expecting an impromptu movie night. To his relief, Lance was dressed similarly, though Keith had a moment of weakness, staring at the way his oversized shirt’s neckline fell, exposing a sun-kissed, golden-brown shoulder. Keith wanted to rub his face against it to see if Lance’s skin was as soft as it looked. They started brainstorming something to do in celebration, Keith throwing out the idea of watching Charmed, much to Lance’s shock and amusement. Keith defended the show hotly, crossing his arms petulantly.   
  
“Well, fine. What did _you_ do last year, Mr. Expert?”  
  
For some reason, Lance broke into nervous laughter, turning away and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.   
  
“Ah, Beltane is a fertility festival, you know…and I was at a really low point. My self-esteem had taken a big hit and I just needed to feel, wanted, I guess? Okay, the point is I celebrated it with the popular tradition of having sex.”  
  
“With who?!”  
  
Keith nearly slapped himself upside the head. Who? Why had he asked that? There was no _possible_ answer that he wanted to hear! If it was someone Keith knew, he’d just be uncomfortable around that person and insanely jealous. If it wasn’t, then he’d start wondering obsessively who they were and what they had that he didn’t. He took two slow, calming breaths.  
  
“Sorry, that’s…Please don’t answer. I shouldn’t have asked.”  
  
“It’s cool, man. Anyway, that’s what I was doing for it last year. Fertility magick is a big part of Osumare’s schtick, and he’s my patron deity. And, let me tell you, everything else in my life might have been going to shit, but Lancey-Lance still got the touch.”  
  
Lance waggled his eyebrows ridiculously and shot him finger-guns, clearly trying to move past the social faux-pas and lighten the mood. Keith’s gut clenched and rolled, a spark of heat there. He could feel how red his face had become.   
  
“So it was…just part of the ritual, right?”  
  
“Yeah. It’s not _that_ unusual. Like it’s something that people do, usually couples part of the same coven or something, but you can also just do it to feel good and as a form of worship. It doesn’t have to be anything in particular. It’s an offering to the gods, you know? Another kind of meditation or invocation. It’s ceremonial, not just a rip your clothes off and go deal.”  
  
“Oh, well, as long as it was _ceremonial_ I guess it must have been fine. How did your partner feel about the Wicca part? Wasn’t weirded out by it?”  
  
Lance raised a suspicious eyebrow at Keith’s inability to prevent the vitriol in his statement. Lance spoke slowly, watching Keith’s face carefully for clues.  
  
“It wasn’t a big deal…it just includes some special herbal massage oils in the hair and skin and a bit with an athame into a cup of wine. We shared the wine afterwards so I guess it seemed worth it to deal with a few extra things. Like I said, we both knew what the end goal was and maybe it didn’t seem that strange. We’d both already had some stuff to drink so…”  
  
Keith’s face warmed anew at the idea of Lance going out and picking someone up, bringing them back here, both of them knowing they were going to fuck, and, despite his best efforts, the jealousy boiled hot in his veins. His stomach clenched and Keith wondered if his next words were only so bold because he could feel his heat coming on.  
  
“Show me.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Lance nearly stumbled, he was so taken aback. Keith smirked heatedly, warming up to his thought.  
  
“C’mon then. It’s a traditional method of celebrating and we said we wanted to do something for the actual day of Beltane, _just the two of us._ And, with me, you definitely wouldn’t need to worry that I’d be freaked with the witch stuff. You’re supposed to be teaching me and this, fertility magick, is a subject I don’t know much about. Don’t you want to teach me for a change?”  
  
“Just to be clear here, you want to do the, ah, more traditional reenactment of Beltane? Like the _whole_ thing?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Lance gulped nervously and Keith waited patiently for a response. He was halfway convinced that Lance would laugh it off and reject him when he’d waited for over a minute in total silence when Lance finally spoke.  
  
“So, if w-we’re gonna do this, there’s, um, a few different things to consider here. This is a teachable moment, so I can tell you a little history. Originally, the ritual was supposed to be between a man and a woman, to represent the God and Goddess, but Aleister Crowley, if you haven’t already read his stuff I highly recommend it, decreed that anyone can participate and be a vessel for a deity, since deities don’t have human gender constraints. The ritual is a reenactment of the God and Goddess coming together in a sacred union. As a participant, you choose a role to take on, observer, God, or Goddess. And then, assuming you chose God or Goddess, you further choose to be active or passive.”  
  
Keith tried to contain his giddy feelings of shock and joy at Lance’s acceptance. He couldn't believe it had worked! He had a distinct feeling that if he made too big a deal of it, or drew any attention to what they were about to do, one or both of them would lose their nerve.  
  
“What’s the difference?”  
  
“The God does the penetrating and the Goddess receives. The active party is physically on top and the passive on bottom. But, even being passive isn’t like what we think of as passive. The passive role actively consents and allows the active person to be on top, whereas the top submits to the wishes of the bottom.”  
  
Keith bit his lips hard to contain his laughter at the stilted way Lance said penetrating. He briefly considered requesting the role of the God, thinking of how nice Lance’s long legs would feel wrapped his waist, but the surge of heavy warmth in his lower abdomen signaling his incoming heat desperately wanted Lance’s cock buried inside of him. Keith struggled to control his voice, even as his blush betrayed him.  
  
“I think I’ll be the Goddess. And the passive role, since I’m not exactly experienced.”  
  
At the burgeoning panic blooming on Lance’s face, Keith hurried to clarify.  
  
“Experienced with the _ritual,_ I mean. Not, you know, the rest of it.”  
  
It wasn’t exactly a lie. Keith had been with other guys, but he’d never gone any farther on the receiving end than hurried hand jobs or, once or twice, sucking a dude off. Keith had always been wary of being taken advantage of, as an omega, so he’d stuck with submissive partners who weren’t too proud to bottom for an omega. It meant he’d never been with an alpha, but some other omegas had similar fears as him and plenty of betas were curious about the experience and Keith didn’t mind being fetishized when it was beneficial to his libido. He trusted Lance, though, and he wanted to try something different. It felt like a suitable sacrifice to his deities and he wasn’t worried that Lance would do anything Keith wasn’t _completely_ comfortable giving him.   
  
Lance gathered the materials they would need, apparently the rooster cup, full of water, his athame, an unlit candle, (Keith grabbed the lighter and went to light it, but Lance worriedly stopped him, claiming a similar incident had set off the fire alarm, to the entire dorm’s ire), a long, skinny, unidentifiable object, and a bottle of something labelled Essential Oils. When Keith asked about the long thing, Lance merely winked and mimed zipping his lips. Lance yanked his shirt over his head and Keith quickly followed suit, both of them swiftly stripping down to nothing. At first, blushing, Keith tried to keep his gaze respectfully averted above Lance’s waist, but he saw Lance unabashedly staring and checking him out. He was pleased to see Lance lick his lips in anticipation and Keith wiggled his hips a bit, a wave of lust cresting over him.   
  
Keith went to neatly fold his clothes, but Lance shook his head and collected them. Lance retrieved his blankets, including a few extras for winter, pillows, and his towels, kneeling in the center of the room. He started arranging them and it only took Keith a second to see that he was nesting. Unsure of the etiquette, since nesting was traditionally a very intimate activity, Keith waited until Lance gestured him over to help. Together they built a passable mass of blankets and towels, tucking their clothes in certain places to best distribute a combination of their smells in the nest. Lance sat back on his heels and proudly surveyed their work. Keith looked down and saw Lance’s cock, flaccid in clean-trimmed curls of pubic hair. It was slightly larger than an average omegan dick, but still only about as long as a finger. Lance noticed the direction of his gaze and leaned back on his elbows, stretching his body on display. Keith’s face was on _fire_ and he swallowed, not wanting Lance to see how Keith was literally drooling over him. As his eyes darted away in embarrassment, Keith noticed that Lance had forgotten to remove his necklace and he shyly reached out to touch it.  
  
“Your necklace, you said you have to remove it?”  
  
“Ah, right. Good catch.”  
  
Lance sheepishly removed the necklace and laid it reverently down. He seemed to know the cardinal directions in his room because he put the water, the necklace, the candle, and the bottle of oils in specific places. After checking with Keith again, to make sure he still wanted to go through with it, Lance pointed the athame in each direction to cast the circle, intoning as he did so.  
  
“With the earth shall we awaken the grounding desire. With air shall we pant, our breaths circling higher. With fire shall I build the pleasure’s pyre. With water shall I cleanse us both of all lies. By the elements were are made pure, to perform the sacred.”   
  
When he’d finished calling the corners, he curled his body around Keith’s, raising Keith’s arm and intertwining their fingers so that they might both hold the athame aloft together.  
  
“We ask the Goddess, maiden in the prime of youth, to come be with us today that we might know and worship you. Silver moon and verdant earth, bringer to birth of all that it, here in the center, where you ever dwell, our praise and love we offer to you; dwell in us always with all of your blessings. We ask the horned god, slayer and slain, wild and tame, to come to be with us today, that we might know and worship you. Golden sun and shining sky engenderer of all that comes to be in the center where you ever dwell our praise and love we offer to you dwell in us always with all of your blessings. We bring the God and Goddess together, our bodies we offer willingly pliant. Now purified, we may call on the pure.”  
  
Lance paused, indicating via pantomime that Keith should retrieve the chalice of water and hold it aloft. Then he gave Keith a lopsided grin.  
  
“Here, where _lance_ and grail unite.”  
  
He giggled softly and, for a moment, the building lust between them dissipated, leaving only the intense feeling of adoration in its place. The pure innocence radiating from Lance’s sweet smile, even in such a context, at being able to say his own name overwhelmed Keith briefly and the breath was knocked from his lungs. Before he had a chance to recover himself, or stop smiling at Lance like an idiot, Lance plunged the athame he’d been holding into the chalice, stirring the liquid inside three times counterclockwise. Keith dutifully held the cup still and tried to prevent anything from sloshing out.   
  
“Soft and hollow, how thou dost overcome the hard and full.”  
  
Keith raised his eyebrows at Lance’s archaic words. By then, Keith had been present for many rituals with their coven and had never heard any thees or thous. Most of the time, it seemed like they had adapted the words to better fit modern times. Which made sense to him; he’d never understood the appeal of chanting ancient words that had been lost to time as language evolved and changed. In a former life, Keith would have been a staunch supporter of the Protestant Reformation. So he wondered why Lance chose those words. Regardless of his reasoning, they did sound more romantic, which seemed like something Lance would appreciate. His musings were cut off by Lance’s whispers.  
  
“Assist me to erect the ancient altar, at which in days past all worshipped; the great altar of all things. For in old time, Woman was the altar. Thus was the altar made and placed. And the sacred place was the point within the center of the Circle.”  
  
His gentle hands guided Keith to set the chalice aside and lay down in the center of the circle they had cast. Lance kept his touches surprisingly chaste which Keith both loved and hated. His overheated skin cried out for Lance’s hands to soothe and calm the desperation in his blood so close to heat. On the other hand, his anxiety had ratcheted pretty high and having a little more time before they jumped straight into things wasn’t a bad idea. After laying down, Lance crawled over his body so that he nestled between Keith’s legs. He placed his hands on Keith’s chest and rubbed his thumbs carefully over Keith’s nipples, quickly enticing them to fully erect.   
  
 “And in this way truly are erected the holy twin pillars; in beauty and strength were they erected to the wonder and glory of all men.”  
  
His fingers trailed up to Keith’s neck until they settled on his face, cupping his cheeks delicately. Lance leaned farther over and breathed against Keith’s lips.  
  
“Thus, do I sign thee, as of old, with kisses of my lips anoint.”  
  
They waited, so close Keith could count each individual eyelash as Lance blinked. When neither moved, Keith grew impatient and closed the distance, pressing their mouths together. Lance responded eagerly, kissing Keith with increasing fervor. He nibbled on Lance’s lower lip and Lance playfully growled, using his grip on Keith’s face to turn him to a more favorable position. Lance’s tongue swiped over Keith’s lips which parted immediately, sucking on Lance coyly. Lance had to break the kiss momentarily when he couldn’t control a smile taking over his face. He distracted Keith by kissing down his neck and scraping his teeth along Keith’s collarbones. Keith arched up into the pressure with a quiet groan and Lance nipped harder, just shy of leaving a mark. Keith opened his mouth to beg Lance to leave bruises when Lance pulled away entirely, reaching over for the bottle of oil. He uncapped it with a snick and poured some over his hands, bringing them down to where Keith was still trying to catch his breath. Despite Keith’s frantic urging, Lance ignored his pleas and began to massage the oil into Keith’s skin, competently relaxing his muscles.   
  
Lance took his time, dutifully checking and massaging every last finger and toe, not hesitating or shying away from rubbing the oil in everywhere. He treated every inch of flesh the same, equal care given to the slippery insides of Keith’s thighs and the arch of his feet. His hands smoothed over the dips and planes of Keith’s body, digging in to the sides of every muscle in a way that initially hurt, but afterwards released all tension. Keith felt his brains melting in his skull in pleasure and he couldn’t have contained his happy moans if he’d tried. He could barely pay attention to the words Lance murmured over him.  
  
“Open for me the secret way, the pathway of intelligence, beyond the gates of night and day, beyond the bounds of time and sense.”  
  
Lance eventually encouraged Keith to roll over and Keith managed to do so with a little help. He snuggled his face into the nest, scenting both himself and Lance entwined. He whimpered in delight as he smushed his nose even farther into the pillow. Lance hummed and concentrated on massaging the back, spreading the oil over Keith’s ass. Keith luxuriated in the sensations, having long given up on getting Lance to rush. He was content to lie there and let Lance have his way with him, releasing any residual hesitation about the situation. Lance paused in his previous ministrations, setting the bottle of oil aside. Keith tried to muster the energy to lift his head and see what had happened, but only managed to loll it to the side. Lance leaned forward, gently, but firmly kneading Keith’s cheeks. He shifted somewhat, pulling his ass wide open, and then a puff of air ghosted over Keith’s hole. Keith gasped, the warmth unspooling in his belly, gathering wetness around his hole suddenly intensifying.   
  
“Lance! Ah, my heat-“  
  
He tried to squeeze his thighs together, pulling away from Lance, and clenched down internally, trying to stop the slick from slipping out. He rubbed his legs together, desperate to curl in on himself and hide, blushing hotly with shame. Hadn’t Lance said this was a formal ritual? And here was Keith, just starting his heat in the middle of things? A hazy whimper escaped his lips and Lance was there, murmuring soothing things as he stroked Keith’s arms and coaxed his legs apart again.  
  
“Shhhh, shhh, don’t worry. It’s fine, Keith, it’s fine.”  
  
Keith hadn’t even realized that he’d been whispering apologies and he tried to duck his head further towards his chest.  
  
“I’m ruining it…Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”  
  
Lance continued to pet his legs, letting his thumbs smooth gentle circles over the soft hairs on Keith’s thighs. Keith moaned as Lance reassured him.  
  
“You’re not ruining anything, Keith. It’s natural. The ritual is about natural things and heat is completely natural. You haven’t done anything wrong, okay? Just let me take care of you, I’ll make sure everything is fine.”  
  
Keith reluctantly relaxed onto his back, allowing Lance to spread his legs wider. He opened an eye and saw how intently Lance gazed down at him, opening Keith’s ass up. Keith felt his hole twitch under the close inspection and more slick gathered at the rim. Lance lifted Keith’s legs, pushing them towards Keith’s chest.  
  
“Hold them up for me, okay, sweetheart? It’s time for your _surprise._ I think you’ll really like it.”  
  
A surprise? Keith squirmed uncomfortably, not positive that he was in the head space for surprises. He obeyed Lance’s request and held his legs open, bared in the most intimate way possible. Lance retrieved the long, skinny object that Keith had remarked on earlier and brought it around so Keith could see it better. Up close, the thing’s intention was more obvious: it was a vibrator. Keith flushed at the thought and wiggled in the nest slightly, biting his lip at the ideas it inspired. Once Keith nodded, having finished his cursory inspection, Lance brought it down to Keith’s ass, dragging the rubber top around Keith’s rim. He sucked in an anticipatory breath.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ve used this on myself. It’s not exactly au naturale, but it’s more important that you’re satisfied. Of all of my heat aids, it’s my _favorite._ ”  
  
Keith would have bet every dollar he owned that Lance’s cock alone, omegan or no, would have satisfied him, but something about Lance’s personal heat aid being used on him, while he was in heat…it reddened his cheeks and sped up his heart. The dildo was flexible and it bent a bit as his hole provided some resistance, slippery as he was. Lance dipped it in and pulled out, giving shallow thrusts until Keith was stretched enough for it to fully penetrate him. It hurt a tiny bit and he hissed, scrunching his face in discomfort. Lance cooed, gentling him and halting all movement until Keith rolled his hips. Lance deftly maneuvered it so that the head pressed against the opening to Keith’s cervix and then slid a finger in as well to stroke lovingly at Keith’s inner walls. Keith gasped reflexively and bowed his back, his omegan instincts roaring to life and imploring _more more please more!_  
  
“Shh, keep breathing baby, deep breaths for me. There we go. Still feeling good?”  
  
Keith was proud that his reply was only slightly strangled.  
  
“Yeah, it’s good. Deeper.”  
  
Lance pushed another finger in alongside the tube, scissoring them open deliciously. Keith tried to keep breathing the way Lance had asked and he felt more slick oozing out of his hole, squelching awkwardly around Lance’s fingers. He was almost too far gone to feel embarrassed. Suddenly, the tip of the vibrator slipped further inside of Keith and he cried out in surprise. Then again as it actually started vibrating, a low thrum in his lower abdomen sparking a soft explosion in his brain. Lance lovingly stroked Keith’s neglected dick, muttering encouraging phrases and wringing pleasure from both places at once. Keith clutched at Lance’s shoulders, clawing at him in an attempt to bring Lance closer. He threw his head back as he came with a mewl, his entire body trembling.   
  
“Wha? What is it doi-ah!”  
  
Lance slid his fingers out, wiping the excess slick onto his own hard cock. He moved the end of the vibrator to the side, ripping another pathetic noise from Keith, as he carefully slid into Keith’s wet hole. He rocked, seating himself languidly inside. Keith snarled at him to hurry the _fuck_ up already, but Lance chided him. When Lance was finally, finally, fully sheathed inside, Keith felt so _full,_ so happy. It was like a dream, hazy with his heat fogged brain and contented. He yelped for more and Lance obliged, murmuring praises and endearments as he worked them both to satisfaction, gently smoothing his hands over Keith’s waist. The vibrator moved in time with Lance’s thrusts, heightening the sensation and bringing Keith teetering towards the edge again in record time.   
  
“It ah! It’s like the packets of semen, ha— an alpha would produce! That’s why it, mmmn!, feels good.”  
  
Keith’s eyes rolled back into his head and he came again, his cock weakly spurting between them and his abdomen clenching and releasing even more slick. The idea was so hot, the nest was warm, Lance was there, cooing and pressing kisses to his neck, nuzzling his scent glands, marking Keith and surrounding him, filling him so perfectly. Keith’s mind blanked, thoughts fading away in the face of raw feeling. He desperately rolled his hips to match Lance, wanting to take him deeper inside, to swallow everything Lance had to offer. He relished the way Lance bit his lip in concentration and how, every so often, he’d lose control and break the rhythm, slamming their hips together out of sync and moaning. Keith opened his legs wider, begging Lance to be closer, connected throughout all inches of skin. He didn’t have the energy to devote to keeping himself quiet and his moans broke through the air steadily, hardly pausing for breath. Lance pushed more of his weight down, pinning Keith into the nest and nipped at his neck. Keith bared it submissively, chest heaving. He could feel the drool leaking from his open mouth, but couldn’t find it in himself to care. He marveled at the miles of tanned flesh laid out before him, obsessively running his free hand over Lance’s back and memorizing the ripple of muscles and the pooling sweat between Lance’s shoulder blades. He saw the marks his own fingernails had scored down Lance’s spine and he vaguely wondered when that had happened, unable to deny the greedy way he drank in the sight. Once everything was over, those marks would stay. Anyone who saw his skin would know. Lance would still be _Keith’s,_ at least for a little while. His cock twitched where it was sandwiched between their bodies.   
  
When Lance finally came himself, Keith made sure to imprint the image in his mind, cherishing the sheer adoration in Lance’s eyes as he gazed down at Keith, ritual or no. He treasured the awe-struck way Lance whispered his name, the tone evoking some long buried hope that, someday, Lance might return his increasingly harder to hide feelings. Keith was sorry that it was over, but the vibrator had become too much, overstimulating the sensitive area. When Lance carefully extracted it from him, Keith whimpered and realized that his legs were shaking. Ruefully, he lowered them, some distant part of his mind knowing he’d be sore later from holding such an awkward position for so long. Ignoring that knowledge for the moment, satiated and sleepily exuberant, Keith joyfully snuggled into the nest, chirruping quietly and rolling around. He felt his eyelids rapidly fluttering closed, no matter how much he wanted to stay awake and watch Lance in that genuine and vulnerable space they’d created. His last memory was of Lance ending the ceremony, muttering to himself.  
  
“Even when separate, forever conjoined. This, their mystery, continually renewed.”  
  
Keith came to consciousness slowly and reluctantly, reveling in the warm comfort of the nest he was wrapped in. It took him a few seconds to make out the body wrapped around him, in addition to the towels and sheets. His mind hazily recalled everything and he fought not to blush too hard as he squirmed, trying to gently extricate himself from Lance’s hold. He reached for his boxers and struggled to pull them on, awkwardly tugging them over his hips and the dried sweat.   
  
“Mmmph, why are you awake?”  
  
Keith jumped and turned to face Lance, one sleepy eye open and glaring at him. Shit. He hadn’t meant to wake him.  
  
“Sorry, was trying to let you sleep.”  
  
Lance groaned eloquently.  
  
“Why don’t you just stay? It’s comfy here. ’N you don’t have a morning class.”  
  
Keith felt guilty and hesitated, knowing that Lance did and it was a math class to boot. Lance raised his head a little more, furrowing his brow at Keith’s pause. Then Lance cleared his throat, looking pointedly at the wall.  
  
“I’m not saying— I mean, just as a friend thing. Sharing the nest. It was just a ritual, man, it doesn’t have to be anything more than that, you know?”  
  
Keith’s breath caught in his throat. It might have just been his residual heat making him more emotional than usual, but the distinct, hot wetness welling up behind his eyes spoke a different story. No. No, this wasn’t what he wanted! Not what he’d envisioned at all when he’d challenged Lance, when he’d agreed to the ritual. How could Lance think that this was something friends did? He hadn’t mentioned exactly how he celebrated every year. Who else had been just a friend he’d slept with. Keith thought that things were different between them, that this was the first step, that it _changed_ things, that Lance wanted-  
  
“Yeah, I get it. We’re closer now. It’s fine. I’ll stay.”  
  
Swallowing hard against tears, Keith tucked himself back into the nest, unsurprised when Lance proceeded to cling to him again and roll the both of them up like a burrito. He sighed, firmly telling himself that he had to respect Lance’s wishes and if this was the closest Lance wanted to be with him, he’d accept that and take what he could get. His breathing eventually evened out and he relaxed, wanting to experience every part of it. He was so immersed in his thoughts that, just as sleep began to claim him again, he couldn’t be sure if Lance’s movement was a kiss on his forehead, or if he’d dreamed it.   
  
The next morning, Keith blearily woke up again with a low moan of displeasure. His phone’s alarm let him know that it was already after nine and he was in _desperate_ need of a shower. He sat up, searching the nest for his clothes. The pang of regret at not expressing himself the night before still throbbed painfully in his chest, but the tension loosened a little when he saw the note Lance had left him. It was a simple winky face on a post-note, but it was stuck to the side of a cup of water with a few tablets of Advil next to it and an arrow pointing at his mini fridge. On the fridge itself was a matching note that said **Help yourself. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!** and had a tiny drawing of a bowl of cereal and a spoon. To the side of the fridge, Lance had left a bowl, spoon, and box of Frosted Flakes. Keith wasn’t sure that, minus the orange juice, toast, and banana in every commercial, the sugary cereal counted as a complete breakfast, but he didn’t have time to eat anything else. As he scarfed down the painkillers, it occurred to him that the things he’d read about omegas being very protective of other omegas in heat turned out to be true. Despite the sadness of remaining just friends for now with Lance, Keith couldn’t help but smile for the rest of his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you're enjoying the fic so far! I wanted to let you all know that I won't be able to keep to the normal schedule of an update here every other week because I'm going to Vietnam for about a week. I promise to try and get the final chapter up before the beginning of December, but I can't speak as to the specifics yet. Future updates on timing will appear on my tumblr, dragonlandsandyaoihands.


	7. Chapter 7

In between struggling through finals and making plans to stay in the campus summer housing, Keith could barely comprehend the end of his time together with Lance and the fact that he was in the final stage of his year and a day training. Keith would be able to spend time with Shiro for about a month, mid July to mid August, when the next school year would begin, but Shiro paid the deposit for Keith to live in summer housing so he’d have a place to stay for the rest of it. A week after finals, Lance asked Keith to come over when he was ready for a break from moving his stuff, saying he had a parting gift for him. Keith knew that Lance was staying for a little longer, but not long enough to justify summer housing. Instead, he’d be crashing at Pidge’s place for however long before heading back to Cuba. Keith knew it was selfish since Lance missed his family so much, but he hoped that Lance would be around for his initiation ceremony. It seemed unlikely, though; he wouldn’t be accepted into the coven until July 3rd. That was an entire _month_ of summer he’d be asking Lance to give up for him.   
  
In fact, Keith wasn’t altogether sure who would be present for his initiation. Allura and Pidge for sure; as High Priestess Allura had to formally invite Keith to the coven and both girls lived locally. Shay had been gushing for the past few weeks about her acceptance to an internship at a local hospital and would be living with Allura for the summer to be close to the hospital, so she would probably be there. Unless she had a shift at the hospital doing…who knows what. Keith frowned, realizing that he’d never asked exactly what Shay would be doing there and made a mental note to rectify the mistake. Hunk was headed home for the whole summer, although he’d promised to Skype in for the initiation. Keith amused himself trying to work out how a Skype ritual would work. Would someone bring the tablet over to the candles and light them in Hunk’s stead? Would Hunk light a candle in front of him at home and the broadcasted candle be a substitute?

Shaking the silly musings from his head, Keith knocked on Lance’s door. It opened almost immediately. The room looked very different from his last visit. Lance’s roommate’s stuff was completely gone, the bed and walls stripped bare. Half-filled cardboard boxes littered the floor and clothes dangled from the sides where Lance hadn’t finished folding them into the boxes. Keith stepped inside gingerly, not wanting to disturb the chaos.  
  
“Hey man. Lemme just grab it…”  
  
Lance went to rummage around in various piles for his gift to Keith, scattering some items on his bed. Keith winced when he saw an orange pharmacy bottle roll off of the bed and onto the floor. He stooped to pick it up, not wanting something so important to get lost in the shuffle. He offered it back to Lance who took it from his hand slowly, a wry smile on his face.  
  
“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to lose the happy pills, huh?”  
  
Keith closed his fingers, and Lance’s, over the precious bottle.  
  
“No. You wouldn’t.”  
  
They stood there in silence for a few moments, hands clasped around the medicine. A variety of emotions flittered over Lance’s expression too quickly for Keith to discern.   
  
“They’re helping me. I think anyway. It’s not perfect and it’s not like how I was before, but…I think it’s getting better.”  
  
Impulsively, Keith pulled Lance into a quick hug, letting go before Lance had the chance to raise his other arm and reciprocate.   
  
“I’m so _glad._ ”  
  
Lance flushed and pulled away, placing the bottle carefully on his nightstand. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment and coughed, turning away. He couldn’t stand another second of looking into Keith’s genuine eyes and mumbled.   
  
“Thanks. Now where did I-oh!”  
  
He yanked open the drawer for the nightstand and found the velvety pouch he’d been seeking. He thrust it into Keith’s chest and Keith took it, opening the pouch and carefully pouring the contents out into his palm. It was a necklace, a simple gold chain with an intricate pendant depicting a lion’s head. The lion itself had golden fur, but the eyes were sparkling red crystals and they glinted knowingly at Keith. He felt his throat close and he choked a little on his breath, blinking rapidly at the sudden burst of emotion. Lance cleared his throat and studiously watched the floor while Keith scrubbed furiously at his face.   
  
“I figured…you know. You haven’t had a chance to work out your own specialties, but it’s pretty obvious that you have an affinity with fire. And I saw your little figurine, the lion, that you keep with your Wicca stuff. So I looked up deities associated with fire and lions and kept coming back to Sekhmet.”  
  
“That, uh, that name sounds familiar.”  
  
Lance nodded, smiling.  
  
“She’s an Egyptian goddess. Most people have seen like hieroglyphics or statues of a lady with a lioness head, so that’s probably what you’re thinking of. Just the quick searches I did of her were, like, lions, fire, vengeance, but also healing, like the kind of cathartic healing that comes from burning everything down and starting fresh. The symbols used for her were pretty cool actually! She’s got a sun disc on her head and people would sing chants for the last day of the year.”  
  
“Sounds like fun. You learn ancient Egyptian on Wikipedia too?”  
  
“Aw, shut up man! I just wanted to get you something cool!”  
  
Keith grinned fondly and Lance blushed a little, his fingers twisting in his shirt.  
  
“You did. Thank you.”  
  
Impulsively, he stepped forward and gave Lance a chaste kiss on the cheek. Lance gulped and thumbed at his shirt vigorously, rocking back on his heels self-consciously and biting his lip.   
  
“I’ll add this to my collection of things so far. It can join the tea lights, my knife, and the lion action figure. I’m sure Sekhmet will be very pleased.”  
  
Lance grinned openly, the awkward tension in the air easing. He ended up suggesting that they head over to the shelter again for more canine cuddle therapy and Keith was delighted to see Kosmo romping around the courtyard with the other dogs. By the time Keith made it back to the dorm, (after persuading Lance to stop for some good old fashioned chicken nuggets), he was pretty exhausted and didn’t feel like packing anymore. He still had some energy though; his mind was racing. Following his whims for the second time that day, he picked up the phone and called Shiro, not sure what he would say until the man had picked up and asked him hello a couple of times. Then the words came suddenly rushing out, clear and confident.  
  
“I’ve been thinking about what you said. Before.”  
  
A gusty sigh echoed down the line.  
  
“Keith, I’ve said a lot of shit before now. It’s late. You’ll have to be more specific.”  
  
“About me wanting to go to space. And why I have to go. And my dad and why he wanted to go and-“  
  
Keith cut himself off, breathing heavily. He clenched his fists, the rant building high in his throat. He didn’t want to yell at Shiro; he wasn’t even angry. It was catharsis, every syllable a revelation as they came, steadier than he’d expected.  
  
“I want to be an astronaut. Me. Not because I’m following in your footsteps, or the ones you used to want, or anyone else. I want to see the stars myself. And this is something I’m good at! The classes I’ve needed, well, the chemistry is hard and some of the higher classes are intimidating, but I’ve been making good marks. My dad was too focused on the Earth; he wanted to go just far enough away that he could look back and gain some perspective. He wasn’t going anywhere in particular because all he could think about was home and seeing it in a new way. I don’t need that. I know who I am.”  
  
Shiro waited patiently until Keith paused for breath and responded quietly.  
  
“And who are you?”  
  
“I’m Keith. I want to be an astronaut. I want to go and keep going; to bring back samples of bizarre life forms and see how far I can go before I have to turn around. To explore the farthest reaches of the universe."  
  
"You're saying you want to go 'to infinity and beyond'?"  
  
Keith groaned and Shiro chuckled quietly.   
  
"I'm happy to hear it, Keith. Really."  
  
When Shiro didn't add a 'but', or elaborate further, Keith made a small, questioning noise.  
  
"...Then I'm confused. I thought you expected some big _revelation_ about how I'd been wrong the whole time and had just been pursuing my father's dream when really, all I ever wanted was to become a-an abstract painter, isolated from civilization, living in an old, abandoned bomb shelter in rural America."  
  
"That sounds awful. I don't know what's worse: rural America or abstract art."  
  
"Abstract art."  
  
Shiro had barely paused when they both chorused the same opinion. Keith giggled and Shiro guffawed. Then he sighed.  
  
"Keith, I never wanted you to give up on your dreams. I just wanted to make sure you had your own reasons and that you were doing it for your own sake. That's all. Just trying to look out for you, Bud."  
  
Keith thanked his lucky stars that they weren't chatting in person and prayed that his wobbly smile went undetected. Shiro couldn't see him, but you never could be sure with that guy. He always had an uncanny knack for sensing Keith's emotions, no matter how well he buried them.  Shiro didn't say anything else about, choosing that moment to complain that he was tired and wanted to sleep while Keith relaxed into his role, teasing Shiro for aging prematurely. They argued good naturedly for a few more minutes and when they hung up, Keith felt much lighter than he had in awhile. He hadn't even realized how much Shiro's possible disapproval had affected him until then and he was happy to clear the air.

Keith was able to enjoy a few days without any responsibilities hanging over his head before Allura confronted him, tugging him gently aside after a Saturday meeting. His stomach churned; normally he’d be on his guard against the kinds of conversations that started with the other person hemming and hawing awkwardly and biting their lip, but he’d been distracted with the summer air and yearning for a nap in the sunshine.  
  
“Keith. You may have guessed that I would bring this to your attention eventually. Very soon, you’ll be officially conducted into our coven, barring, of course, any extraordinary happenstance.”  
  
Keith didn’t interrupt. He knew one of Allura’s defense mechanisms when she was nervous was slipping into polite, stilted speech patterns.  
  
“Not that I think that’ll happen! But, there is something I’d like you to consider more carefully. The role of High Priest. I believe you are a good candidate.”  
  
Keith closed his eyes in dismay. He’d been afraid this would happen.  
  
“Allura, we’ve talked about this before-“  
  
“A High Priest is one half of the decisive head of the coven. Together with the Priestess, they lead and coordinate the gatherings and holiday celebrations. As a leader, the High Priest must be in control at all times, someone whose coven will follow without hesitation. I _know_ you can be that man, Keith.”  
  
Keith fervently thanked the God and Goddess that Lance and Pidge were absent from the room, likely cleaning up from their snack, and motioned at Allura to lower her voice.  
  
“Yeah, thanks, that’s fine, but I don’t want to. I mentioned an alternative that I wanted you to think about, remember?”  
  
He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes warily.   
  
“I know you wanted this for me, but you’re making a mistake! I’m not you, I can’t lead them like you.”  
  
“Keith-“  
  
“No. I don’t accept this. I’m the new guy and you know? Before all of this? I was a total loner! I’m not the leader you think I am. I can’t take the position away from someone who would be better, someone like Lance who has been with you the entire time-“  
  
Seemingly on cue, Lance sidled up, apparently having overheard the increasingly heated conversation. Keith’s heart sank even lower. Just as he was thinking that Lance would never forgive him for this though, Lance laid a firm hand on his shoulder. Keith inhaled sharply at the steadying contact.  
  
“Keith. Let’s face it, no one can replace me. And she’s not asking you to. But Allura wouldn’t choose anybody she didn’t feel was worthy to lead the coven. I respect her choice and you should too.”  
  
Keith looked away, unable to maintain eye contact. His heart thudded desperately in his ribcage, making it hard to breathe.  
  
“It took me awhile, I won’t deny it. But, I’ve finally come to terms with where I belong in the coven. And where _you_ belong. I’m not going to go away and stop supporting you because take Allura up on her offer. I’ve been helping you figure out that you want to dedicate yourself to Sekhmet, right? So, that’s already an important decision I’ve had a hand in. In fact, I’ll be your right hand man! I’m your senior in these matters, so think of me like a wizened advisor, complete with ridiculous facial hair!”  
  
Lance stopped to twirl his imaginary mustache and Keith chuckled despite himself. He still hesitated though, biting his lip and glancing uncertainly at Allura’s encouraging smile. Pidge breezed through the doorway and contributed:  
  
“Lance postponed his trip back to Cuba until the sixth of July _just_ so that he could be here, in person, when you’re initiated. Go big or go home, Keith.”  
  
“You can continue to consider it. There’s no rush; you still have a month to think it over. You can tell me your decision at our Litha celebration, okay?”  
  
Keith finally nodded, willing to accept the extra time, even though Lance’s words had swayed him to a decision already. He wasn’t happy that Allura hadn’t taken his words about Lance’s maturity and readiness for leadership to heart and he worried that, despite the posturing of forgiveness, Allura might still doubt Lance’s capabilities. With finality, Keith nodded again, prepared to advocate all the more strongly once _he_ was High Priest. The giddy euphoria he’d been trying to suppress since finding out that Lance was staying to see him inducted into the coven bubbled up again in his chest and Keith gave in, refusing to think too hard about the goofy smile likely adorning his face.   
  
Over the next few weeks, Lance kept his word: he spent a lot of time assisting and advising Keith while he studied on his own. He leant a sympathetic ear while Keith raged about how many different types of fucking candles there were and why did he end up buying the wrong kind _every goddamn time?_ Lance was also there to tsk over the finger Keith accidentally burned in his haste to light his new candles and wrap a Deadpool bandaid around it, and then to take Keith out to a celebratory dinner at Norm’s when Keith managed to successfully meditate for thirty minutes. Keith learned the names and habits of Lance’s siblings, his parents, and his grandparents, to the point where Keith felt a little bit like he knew them, despite having never met any of them. Normally, Keith couldn’t care less about the ins and outs of family dramas, but Lance was so expressive that every story he told, no matter how mundane, came to life with gestures and voices for all the characters. Keith’s fascination might also have something to do with how deep his feelings had grown for the man, but no one in their right mind could deny Lance’s ability as a storyteller.   
  
In fact, it was during one of those family stories that Keith’s phone started ringing. Keith was tempted to ignore the call, but when he saw that the caller was Allura, he felt conflicted. Lance peered over his shoulder and scoffed, reaching over to answer the phone and put it on speaker, answering in a high-pitched, simpering voice.  
  
“The lovely Lancey-Lance, secretary for Keith Kogane, speaking. How may I help you on this beautiful summer day?”  
  
Allura’s eye-roll was audible.   
  
“I wanted to speak with Keith about our upcoming celebration of Litha.”  
  
Keith’s heart sank; was she expecting his answer already? Now? In front of Lance? His distress must have shown on his face because Lance immediately switched to his normal tone.  
  
“Yeah, okay. Should I, uh, leave the room or something?”  
  
“Oh! No! This is about the logistics of Litha. I just received word that Shay won’t be able to make it because of her internship demanding she come in on the solstice. I was already planning on substituting in for Hunk, but, since Shay is fire-oriented and Keith is too, I was rather hoping that Keith would be willing to take her place within the circle.”  
  
Keith’s initial sigh of relief stuttered into panic and he coughed somewhat violently.  
  
“Me? But, I can’t! I haven’t been initiated yet! And I don’t know what her part is; I wouldn’t know what to do.”  
  
“Okay, okay. Calm down. I can go over the ritual with you. We’ve done the same one for the past couple of years and I’m sure this time is the same, right Allura?”  
  
“Yes, absolutely.”  
  
“See? You’ve got nothing to worry about, my man! I may be done mentoring you, but I’m still your senpai and there’s plenty of tricks up these sleeves to teach you, young padawan.”  
  
Keith wrinkled his face in disgust at the haphazard mixing of cultural references, but couldn’t deny the relief he felt that Lance would be there to walk him through his part so he wouldn’t make an even bigger fool out of himself. As it was, Keith felt _positive_ that, no matter how well Lance coached him, he’d end up knocking over a candle and setting the park on fire, or something equally disastrous.

The day of, he rode to the park with Lance, his legs nervously bouncing in the car. When they arrived at the fire pit and barbecue that Allura had previously reserved, they found Allura and Pidge frowning at the metal contraption, fiddling with the charcoal. After emptying his arms of the decorations he’d carried from the car, Keith cleared his throat hesitantly.   
  
“Does anyone know how to grill?”  
  
Pidge gestured at the cooler beside them.  
  
“We have the steaks. We’ve watched Hunk do it before. How hard could it be?”  
  
Keith swallowed nervously and nodded, stepping away when Allura dumped in a bunch of charcoal and brandished a long necked lighter.   
  
“I’ll, uh, help Lance with the decorations and light the fire…over there.”  
  
He overheard Pidge muttering about how he was a coward, but it wasn’t enough to tempt him back over. He was a bit surprised that Allura wanted to grill the steaks before the ritual, but apparently Pidge’s plan was to cut them up and make a big salad with the pieces. Keith wisely decided to stay out of the cooking business. Instead, he assisted Lance in lifting a massive set of antlers in front of the fire pit, where they set up the actual altar. There was a small mortar and pestle next to a bag of mixed herbs that made Keith sneeze when he opened it up for a sniff, along with another bag of dried rose petals. There were tiny versions of brooms tied with red and golden ribbons that also adorned a wreath interwoven with small painted bees that smelled of lavender. He saw some paper and scissors, but Lance stopped him from taking them out, saying they were for an activity later to cut out butterflies. The incense for Litha was one that Lance’s sister had made for him, something made of lemons and other citrus fruits. Keith had no idea how someone made incense, but unfortunately, neither did Lance. He just shrugged when Keith asked and said:  
  
“Yeah, I dunno, man. Veronica is one of those people who can figure out how to make anything.”  
  
Surprisingly, not too much later, Keith and Lance watched as Allura flailed her way through moderately successful grilling (she didn't light the park ablaze), and Pidge dexterously chopped up the steaks and distributed them into her pre-made salad. She set everything in the cooler and the two girls came to join them, readying themselves to cast the circle. Keith supposed that afterwards, when they actually tried to eat the steaks, he could make a final decision. Allura had an adorable smudge of charcoal across one cheek that somehow managed to not diminish the aura of authority that she shrugged on at the start of the ritual. Allura took a deep breath and nodded at the group, raising her arms as she took on Hunk’s role for calling the corners.   
  
“We call upon the North. We thank you for the energy in our fertile soil, for the hearty ground supporting our toil.”  
  
As she spoke, she sprinkled a bit of salt into the fire pit. Then Pidge stepped up, holding the mortar and pestle aloft. She ground up the bag of herbs that Keith had laid out for her and cast her grindings into the fire pit while saying:  
  
“We call upon the East. Herbs and plants, sun and light, empowered by Midsummer’s glow. Green to green, gold so bright, let abundance and prosperity flow.”  
  
Keith tried to calm his racing heart, following after Pidge. He stooped and lit the bonfire, blowing on it to make sure the flames would catch and waited until they’d grown into a proper blaze, consuming the salt and herbs previously thrown in. The smoke wafting from the fire was lightly lavender scented and Keith smiled. He cleared his throat and raised the tiger’s eye Shay had given him while he tried to project the carefully memorized words that Lance had taught him (and that he’d practiced a few times in the mirror, okay, he wanted it to be _perfect, stop laughing Shiro!)._   
  
“We call upon the South. Midsummer sun shining bright with power, red at sun up, red at sun down. Bestow upon us the courage to tower, standing tall ‘neath your golden crown.”  
  
He lowered his arm, pulse thundering in his head as he tried to determine whether his voice had shaken or faltered at all. Lance quickly replaced Keith with his effortlessness, flicking a handful of water into the bonfire and making it hiss.   
  
“We call upon the West. How we celebrate the running river, the placid ponds, the endless flow of the ocean’s tide! The swirls and eddies, spanning all the world, from side to side.”  
  
Allura took over again as High Priestess.  
  
“Great Goddess, we greet you! You who are the lady of hearth, home, and love, now the Mother, shine your divine blessing down on us this longest day. Great God, we greet you! You who are the lord of the beasts, the fields, and the woods, now the Father, shine your divine blessing down on us this longest day.”  
  
When she finished, they all took a seat on the ground, shifting to find a comfortable spot. Keith closed his eyes and prepared to meditate. He’d been told that on the longest day of the year, they were to visualize the garden in their minds, where they had planted the idea-seeds earlier in the year and encourage them to grow. He inhaled slowly and stood once more in his mental garden plot. He saw tiny seedlings sprouting and he crouched down, gently running his fingers along the shivering leaves. They were baby soft and embedded with the fond memories of going to the animal shelter with Lance, of Shiro’s acceptance in the dead of night, of Allura confiding in him her hopes for repairing her relationships and her grief over her father’s passing.  The leaves shone in the hot sunlight and reflected images of his friends, his coven, over the past months. Allura’s quiet voice filtered through his meditations, punctuated by the crackling fire and the beads of sweat slipping down Keith’s lip.  
  
“Blessed sun, we greet your rays upon this sacred solstice day. Welcome be your warmth from the night, turning darkness into light. As the winds blow pollen to fertilize, let the life around us fully rise. Let us love and be loved in turn.”  
  
After everyone blinked open their eyes, Allura attempted to lead the group through some yoga positions that she claimed were ‘sun salutations’. Pidge griped about cultural appropriation and how yoga was only acceptable as a secular activity and not for religious purposes for non-Indian people, but Allura insisted that they at least try it out. Keith started sweating profusely after holding a deep lunge with his arms above his head. Only Lance was able to maintain his balance well enough to actually _hold_ any of the positions and when Allura hesitantly called for a sixth position which involved more flexibility than Keith was comfortable with displaying in public, Pidge finally flopped on the ground and loudly called it quits. Even though she’d suggested it, Allura looked a little relieved and quickly called for the opening of the circle. Keith was _starving._   
  
When Lance heaped a generous portion of the steak salad thing onto his paper plate, Keith watched carefully as Lance took his first bite, nervously fidgeting with his phone in case he needed to surreptitiously order some emergency pizza. To his delight, despite its dubious beginnings, the steak salad seemed to be okay and, upon trying it himself, Keith found he was altogether too hungry to care if it was a bit charred on some pieces and undercooked on others. Luckily, Pidge had thought ahead and had also brought some watermelon for them to gorge themselves on, sticky juices covering their greedy fingers. Once everyone was satisfied, they opened up the bags of fun and quickly busied themselves with either cutting out paper butterflies to paste onto a giant piece of cardboard, or, in Lance and Keith’s case, starting a ‘friendly’ game of horseshoe throwing. (It quickly devolved into a competition of increasingly ridiculous positions from which to throw the shoe and evolved into frankly ludicrous attempts to stand upside down and throw between the legs to lodge the horseshoe into the first branch of a nearby tree. Needless to say, it ended abruptly when a nearby family picnicking with their small children sternly told the boys off for such dangerous behavior. When they slouched back to the girls, shamefaced, Pidge laughed so hard that she made herself belch impressively. She wasn’t laughing when she had the hiccoughs for twenty minutes after.) Later in the afternoon, when things had calmed down slightly, Keith took the opportunity to speak furtively with Allura.  
  
“Listen. I’ve thought a lot and I accept the role of High Priest for the coven. But I have to do it on my _own terms._ I can’t just take all that responsibility on right after initiation. I need some time to keep learning and figure out how to be a leader. So, can I just…wait until I’m ready?”  
  
Allura beamed at him proudly.  
  
“I’d expected nothing less, Keith.”  
  
The final day before his initiation, July the second, Keith was in a daze. He spent the whole time in silence, not sure if Pidge had been pulling his leg or not when she'd said it was custom to do so, but not wanting to take any chances with something he'd worked so hard for. He barely slept; his stomach flipping whenever he tried to get comfortable and reminding him that there was still time, he could still fuck it up. He stubbornly swallowed his nausea the next morning and made his way to Allura's house. She'd advised him of the ritual's basic outline and given him both a set of verbal instructions as well as a slip of paper with them repeated so he wouldn't forget anything. He wore all black and brought a small selection of his burgeoning collection of Wicca tools. Keith figured that a single candle, his necklace from Lance, and the cool knife he'd bought were enough to be symbolic.   
When he arrived, Lance quietly directed him to sit in Allura's living room, away from all of the preparations. Lance took Keith's tools with the promise that no harm would come to them. Keith hadn't been worried, but the fact that Lance gave him any assurances probably had more to do with Keith's obvious nerves. He craned his neck, trying to hear the consecration ritual happening for his tools. Luckily for him, Allura's English boarding school had focused especially on enunciation and projecting one's voice so he could hear her fairly clearly.  
  
"Powers of the Earth, guardians of the ground, the water, the light, and the air, I consecrate this knife of steel, amulet of crystal, and candle of wax. I charge them with your energies. I purify them this day and make these tools sacred, with your blessings. I charge these tools in the name of Sekhmet, the Horned Lord of the Sun, the Trifold Lady of the Moon, and the stars. By their power, I banish the energies of any previous owner and make them fresh and new. I consecrate these things and they belong to Keith."  
  
There was some mutterings from the others once Allura stopped speaking and he could dimly make out some muffled shuffling around the room. When it became clear that no more prayers would be said, he stopped listening so intently. He sat alone, trying to concentrate on meditating and dedicating himself to Sekhmet. Allura would officially dedicate him, as her duties in the coven allowed, but Lance had suggested that a private self-dedication beforehand never hurt. It was hard to focus on the power and might of the ancient Egyptian war goddess while trying to eavesdrop on the rest of the group a few rooms away, but Keith willed himself to settle down. He pondered the aspects of simultaneously being a deity of war and of healing, a goddess known for her intense wrath as well as her mercy. A true lioness, worshipped as a leader herself, but always a part of her pride. Though his clothes were all black, he'd wrapped a red bandana around his wrist in deference to Sekhmet and he idly rubbed his thumb over the smooth fabric until Lance came back. He did so brandishing a long strip of silk.  
  
"Yeah, fine, it's a belt from Allura's robe, but it's not exactly like we have a bunch of blindfolds just sitting around."  
  
Lance paused.  
  
"Nah, I'll spare you the joke."  
  
Keith threw his hands up.  
  
"You don't even have to say anything! Just by saying that much, I knew what you were thinking."  
  
"Pipe down and let me tie this on you, Mullet."  
  
Keith grumbled softly, but obeyed. Unconsciously, he tilted his head towards Lance's hands, humming softly at the feeling of his fingers sliding carefully through Keith's unstyled locks. He grunted when Lance's fingernail snagged on a knot in his hair and Lance tutted impatiently. Keith frowned aggressively and Lance snorted at the expression.  
  
"That never happens in my telenovas. Your fingers are supposed to glide effortlessly through the luscious mane of the other person. Maybe if you actually  _brushed_ your hair once in awhile..."  
  
"Don't lecture me when I can't even see you!"  
  
Keith snapped, shaking his abused head from Lance's grasp. He crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"Whatever. I'm going in with the others now.”  
  
"I have to lead you! I'm the Guide! You're just a Seeker right now!"  
  
Lance whined, taking Keith by the hand and helping him up. It had been a bluff anyway; Keith’s dramatic exeunt inevitably ruined by his inability to see. Keith swore that if Lance led him into a wall or the couch he'd swing at him, blindfold be damned, but Lance was perfectly polite. It made Keith wonder whether he'd been exaggerating his general air of obnoxiousness to help distract Keith from his worries. Before he could think too hard on it though, Lance laid a hand on his shoulder to signal that they should stop. Allura's voice rang out again.  
  
"Who approaches this sacred space?"  
  
Keith was glad that Lance squeezed his arm again to stop him from answering.  
  
"I bring you one who I have guided. He wishes to know the mysteries of this coven and has worked ceaselessly to be worthy of honoring the God and Goddess."  
  
"Seeker, by what name will you be known within this circle? What god might claim ownership of your magick?"  
  
Allura had informed him previously that some people chose to take on spiritual names when they became part of a coven officially, but encouraged Keith to do whatever felt most comfortable for him. None of the others had taken on names, or, at least, not ones that they shared with anyone else. Even privately, Keith only ever thought of himself as Keith and couldn't think of anything else. Besides, he knew who he was.  
  
"I am Keith Kogane and I praise the glory of Sekhmet and revel in her fire."  
  
He'd tried to make his response appropriately formal, but the blindfold prevented him from seeing anyone's reaction to his stilted words.   
  
"The gods have deemed you worthy. Please enter the sacred circle and kneel in their presence."  
  
She paused long enough for Lance to direct him to his designated spot and Keith kneeled awkwardly. He heard Lance's footsteps receding back to his spot within the circle.  
"Seeker, before you are initiated as a dedicant, are you ready to be purified?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He really,  _really,_  hoped that the purification, which normally involved something being held over a candle, wouldn't set his hair on fire. It had taken enough damage already. Fortunately, when he felt the others step closer to him, the motions revolved around some strong incense, Lance daubing a drop of water on his forehead like Rafiki, a sprinkle of something that made him sneeze, and the heavy weight of something pokey that felt suspiciously like a flower crown being set on his head.   
  
"By joining this coven, you become part of a greater spiritual family. As such, you are part of an endless circle of kinship and hospitality. Hail ye, Gods and Goddesses! Hail to the kinsmen and clan, to the ancestors who walked before us, and to those who may follow! Here before you kneels Keith, the Seeker, soon to be a sworn member of this coven. Seeker, the mysteries of the gods and men alike are legion. We can never hope to learn them all, but we can indeed follow them on our journey through this life and the next. As a dedicant, you will learn and grow and evolve every day."  
  
There was a sound like something was crackling and Keith realized with a start that Hunk had Skyped in for the initiation from Samoa. Keith felt oddly touched by the gesture. Hunk's voice was only a little fuzzy through the speakers.  
  
"You will seek new perspectives on all issues and examine both the logical and emotional responses both you and others have."  
  
Pidge piped up next.  
  
"You will constantly seek new knowledge and attain it in direct proportion to your efforts."  
  
Keith began to wonder if everyone had written their own pieces just for the occasion. They seemed a little too on the nose for a normal ritual. Shay was next:  
  
"You will seek a more solid connection with all of nature that surrounds us and the stable foundation that comes from its peace."  
  
Keith swallowed nervously when she finished, unsure of why he suddenly wasn't ready for Lance's contribution.  
  
"You will seek a deeper bond and better understanding of the people around you."  
  
The words might have been ominous, but Lance's teasing tone took any sting out of them. Keith nearly sighed with relief when Allura continued.  
  
"Are you willing and able to uphold the values and principles of this coven?"  
  
Keith didn't hesitate.  
  
"I am."  
  
"Are you prepared, Seeker, to be born anew? To begin, this day, a brand new journey, as a child of the gods?"  
  
"I am."  
  
"Then rise, Keith, son of Sekhmet, and emerge from the womb of darkness and be welcomed into the light and love of the gods and your fellows. You are no longer a mere Seeker, but a dedicant of this coven."  
  
She deftly untied the knot and removed the blindfold with a flourish befitting her nature. Keith blinked at the sudden light, (and maybe at his sudden swell of emotion too). Allura pressed Keith's tools into his hands and gestured Lance over to put Keith's lion necklace on.   
  
"I give you these tools and bid you use them wisely, and always in accordance with the mandates of our tradition."  
  
He nodded mutely, flushing a little at the casual way Lance swept his hair aside to do up the clasp. Allura smiled broadly and laid a kiss upon Keith's brow. The others stepped forward to do the same and he giggled when Pidge pressed the iPad with Hunk's puckered lips onto Keith's head too. When they had returned to their places and Keith had stood up, they chanted in unison:  
  
"May you be blessed by the gods.”  
  
His spreading happiness could hardly be contained and he waited impatiently for Allura and the others to finish closing the circle properly. They all crowded around him in a bear hug once they had and Keith smushed the iPad against his chest while Hunk crowed excitedly. Keith had never felt so welcomed before; couldn’t remember the last time he’d been pressed against so many people at once and hadn’t felt crowded or uncomfortable. Most of his foster families had tried their best, but none of them evoked the types of feelings Keith had in that coven, even before he’d been initiated. He blinked back the overwhelming desire to cry and buried his face in Shay’s accommodating shoulder. When he pulled back, he saw Pidge hurriedly bringing out the Jack N The Box they’d brought, (since Hunk was absent), and the pie he couldn’t determine the origin of. Lance sheepishly cleared his throat at its presentation.   
  
“I’m no Hunk, but I got his recipe for key lime pie and gave it my best shot.”  
  
Keith grinned at the blushing boy, resolving to never tell any of them that he didn’t really like key lime anything. It didn’t matter. He was so far gone, he’d eat anything Lance made for him. The thought made Keith flush a little too, but no one commented on the moment between them. Instead, Shay started heading for the doorway, eager to bring out the strawberry daiquiris she’d stored in the freezer. She returned quickly, doling out generous portions in people’s cups and served Keith in ceremonial chalice with a wink. He raised his eyebrows at the sacrilegious gesture, but Allura assured him that it was fine. As everyone started to settle in with their food and drink, Allura stood up and formally addressed them all. Keith paused mid-bite on his taco to listen.   
  
“This ritual is about Keith and I don’t want to take that focus away from him, but there is something very important that I wish to address with you all.”  
  
Some static noises came from the tablet, indicating that Hunk had shifted forward towards the camera.  
  
“As you know, I invited Keith to not only join our coven, but also to become High Priest and lead it. He is very modest and initially declined the offer, but I believe, in due time, he will make a fantastic High Priest for us. However, his hesitation on the matter got me thinking. He was worried about becoming a leader so soon after having joined. After giving the situation quite a bit of attention, I have decided that I made that very mistake; becoming your leader immediately after forming this coven with you all. I believe that this may not have worked in anybody’s favor and I should take some time to work on myself, for my own sake, as well as yours. This is not to say that Keith must accept my responsibilities now, or that anyone must-“  
  
“Allura, what?”  
  
Allura held up a hand. Pidge closed her mouth, noticing for the first time the tears shining brightly in the corners of Allura’s eyes and the distinct wobble of her mouth. Allura took a deep breath, and tilted her head back.  
  
“Please, let me finish first.”  
  
Pidge nodded dumbly.  
  
“Keith can take all the time he needs to prepare for this new, leading role. It will be up to him to decide when he is ready. Congratulations, Keith. However, in addition to that, I would like to ask a favor of you, Lance.”  
  
She turned her intense gaze on him and he raised his eyebrows, silently pointing to himself in question. She nodded and smiled widely at him, stepping forward to take his hand with both of hers. The tears fell freely down her face and glistened on her cheeks. Lance blinked as all eyes fell on him.   
  
“I know I have no right to ask more of you, considering how cruel I’ve been. But, perhaps you can think of this not so much as a favor to me, but to the entire coven that you love. You are leaving for Cuba in a few days, but when you return for the fall, I would ask you to replace me as High Priestess.”  
  
Lance gaped in surprise.  
  
“Me? But you’re perfect for the role!”  
  
“I most certainly am not. And, far from perfect yourself, as we all are, you have shown tremendous growth of character over the past year. Despite having your own problems, both externally and with some of us within this very coven, your devotion never wavered. You stuck with all of us, even when we hadn’t done right by you or supported you when you needed us the most. That is something we need to work on, but you showed real dedication and love. Issues cannot be solved overnight, it is an ongoing process that you’ve committed to and we can all commit to working on our own faults in addition to offering our support to you however you may need it. You persevered through such strife to better yourself and be a part of us, for the good of the coven. Words cannot express how _sorry_ I am for the way I treated you and I can only hope that, in the future, I can make up for it with my actions. Therefore, I ask you to lead me, so that I may learn to be as selfless as you.”  
  
By the time she had finished, Lance had shed tears of his own and Hunk’s sniffling was audible. He gulped a few times and tried to take a steadying breath, nodding.  
  
“I can only try to do my best Allura. But, I promise you, I _will_ try. No more of this cutting each other out, no more secrets, no more hidden feelings. We’re gonna talk to each other. All of us. No matter how bad things got, even when I barely spoke to you all, you were still there. And that was something. Not everything I needed, but you guys were there. And I love you guys!”  
  
“We love you too, Lance.”  
  
Allura pulled him into a tight embrace, neither bothering to hide their tears anymore. Pidge and Shay joined in while Hunk wailed about missing the group hug and accused Keith of not getting in on the action. Rolling his eyes, (and blinking a few of his own stray tears away), Keith grabbed the tablet and joined in the hug, smushing the image of Hunk’s face into Allura’s shoulder where they all crowded around a tearful Lance. Later, when the sobs and sniffles had made way for celebratory pizza, (Keith’s choice), and everyone was more concerned about whether Lance becoming a coven leader would mean they’d be subjected to ham and pineapple pizza from now on, (not on Keith’s _life_ ), Keith pulled Lance aside. Lance had been hotly debating the merits of the sweet pineapple and the savory ham and tomato sauce, so he was caught of guard when Keith nudged him and loudly asked if Lance wanted to help him get everyone refills. Lance followed him slowly, suspiciously noting that everyone’s cups were full.  
  
“So…what’s up? The drinks are in there, there’s literally no reason for us to leave the room and stand creepily by the doorframe. You didn’t even bother walking to the kitchen!”  
  
“We don’t need to go to the kitchen!”  
  
“Yeah. I got that.”  
  
Lance waited, raising his eyebrows the longer Keith continued to fidget in increasingly awkward silence. He finally mustered up the courage to blurt out:  
  
“Do you wanna?”  
  
“Wanna what?”  
  
Keith blushed and broke their gaze, unable to keep looking Lance in the eye.  
  
“I was just thinking. Allura said that this was an opportunity for new beginnings for me, the whole initiation thing-“  
  
Keith gestured lamely into the room.  
  
“And I just wanted to know if you felt the same?”  
  
Lance huffed impatiently.  
  
“Keith, I’ll be honest with you. I have no _idea_ what you’re talking about right now.”  
  
Keith sighed noisily and raked his fingers through his unruly mane.   
  
“I mean we’ve already, you know, and I really like going to the shelter with you. And just hanging out. And I think about you a lot. And I like tutoring you, although now it’s summer so you don’t need it…maybe we can start up again in the fall. Not that I’m saying you need to be tutored or anything! You’re super smart! Maybe you’ll have to tutor me in something-“  
  
Lance grinned and gently cut him off, taking hold of Keith’s hands to stop them both from fidgeting.  
  
“Buddy? I think I know where you’re going with this, but I want to make sure. No assumptions here. So, take a deep breath and get to the fucking point.”  
  
“Will you help me with my new beginnings by beginning a new relationship with me?”  
  
Lance gawked at him. Keith felt all of his hopes swirling down the drain, along with all of the blood in his face. When Lance started cracking up, well, Keith wasn’t proud of his reaction. He panicked.  
  
“I didn’t want to put you on the spot. No pressure! If you don’t want to, or you’re not ready for that kind of thing, just say so! That’s why I pulled you aside so that no one else would see and there wouldn’t be any tension when you tell me to totally forget this whole thing even happened because the last thing I want is to cause any more drama; you totally don’t need any more of _that._ I mean-“  
  
But Keith never had a chance to tell Lance what he meant because the next thing he knew, Lance had dragged him bodily over to the others, still giggling to himself. Keith’s stomach swooped down to his shoes. He felt a cold sweat break out on the nape of his neck and he hoped the hand Lance still gripped wasn’t too clammy. He knew Lance wouldn’t be mean, knew it in his bones. That knowledge didn’t stop the worry from sitting heavy in his gut. Or the way he startled when Lance demanded all eyes be on the two of them.   
  
“Listen up! I’m declaring my first act as High Priestess!”  
  
“You don’t start until you come back from Cuba though…”  
  
“AHEM! My first act! As High Priestess! Is…To begin officially courting Keith!”  
  
Silence reigned for a brief, blessed moment. Then all Hell broke loose.  
  
“Finally, holy shit guys-“  
  
“I’m so happy for you!”  
  
“Does this mean you’re _not_ forcing us to always order ham and pineapple pizza?”  
  
Keith tuned out the rest of the conversation, ("I said this was my _first_ act, maybe ham and pineapple will be my second!"), trying desperately to catch his breath. Shiro was never going to believe what a total dumbass Keith somehow had fallen for. He could feel the heat radiating from his face at the sweet gesture that was somehow so Lance. Lance must have seen Keith’s distress because he grabbed his other hand and held them aloft, pressing a kiss to the inside of Keith’s wrist. He waggled his eyebrows playfully and Keith tried not to spontaneously combust.   
  
“Does that answer your question?”  
  
"I guess so."  
  
He cleared his throat, his voice a little hoarse. Inexplicably. Lance arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow and sasses back:  
  
"You guess?! That was the most romantic thing I could do to show you up! You started, like, being all cliche over there! You put me on the spot!"  
  
Lance pouted magnificently while Keith struggled to find something appropriate to say.   
  
"Check it."  
  
Unseen by everyone else, Pidge had managed to procure one of the brightly colored ribbons from their Beltane celebration and had snuck up next to the pair. She wound it around their clasped hands, grinning to herself. Keith sucked in a sharp inhale. Hand-fasting. He knew about this! It was usually for weddings or civil commitments, but he could roll with it. Lance wanted over the top romantic shit? Keith could do that. He would _not_ lose any competition to Lance, certainly not now that they were playing for keeps. He leaned closer and caught Lance's gaze with his own. Lance balked a little at the sudden intensity, but Keith didn't relent.   
  
"These are the ties that bind. For courting, to you, Lance, I give myself willingly and under no duress."  
  
Lance quirked a bemused smile at him and leaned in for a quick peck to Keith's forehead. Hunk cheered so loudly that Keith would have worried he'd blown out the tablet's mic if he weren't so distracted by the man standing in front of him.   
  
"I knew you'd succumb to my irresistible charm eventually. I mean, let's be real: that shit telling you we were just bros being dudes on Beltane was _super_ lame and a total ass pull. Literally. That is not something friends do. I felt bad as soon as I said it, but I am kind of weird about heats. I know how suggestible they make me and I didn't want to take advantage and then the moment had passed and I dunno."  
  
"Wait, what happened with you guys on Beltane?"  
  
Lance barreled on past Allura's comment, breezily continuing, much to Keith's amusement. Only a slight blush high on his cheekbones gave away his feelings on the matter. Shay muttered something under her breath about the phrase 'ass pull' that shocked a bark of laughter from Pidge.   
  
"But hey! You're here now, with me, how it should be. It only took you, what? Like a year?”  
  
Keith clicked his tongue, thinking back. When exactly had he become so fixated on Lance?  
  
“A year and a day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me all the way to the end! I hope you enjoyed the ride :)  
> If you want to support me or read some things I don't post on AO3, come check out my tumblr at dragonlandsandyaoihands.tumblr.com for more information


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